Trouble
by KissingFairies
Summary: Linda knew Alex was trouble from the moment she met him. She could tell just by looking at him that he was. Yet, she was unable to ignore him. Alex/OC
1. Fairytales

'_Everyone in the ball turned and stared at Cinderella. Even Prince Charming had noticed her…'_

Linda listened to Gran's voice as it trailed from Moyra's bedroom into her own. Flat on her back, underneath her sheets, the teenager listened intently. Some would say she was too old to hear these stories; that they were for children Moyra's age and she should go read more sophisticated and comprehensive books, like the books her parents had on the bookshelves. Linda did not really care for those kinds of novels. They were always about boring subjects and had no real imagination to them. She loved the fairytales Gran read. She loved them because they were the exact opposite of reality. In those stories, mice turned into horses; pumpkins could be carriages; a servant girl can become a beautiful princess over night and fall in love with a handsome prince. In the "real world", mice were exterminated; pumpkins were carved or made into pies; and servant girls were servant girls. The fairytales seemed so much nicer than the world she lived in. It always was.

If anything, it was, at least, better than her own. Alex Delarge had seen to that the day they met. He had been so charming with his handsome smile, unique nadsat language she was lucky enough to understand, and his overall appearance. Of course, she had seen him for what he really had been: A complete ruffian. A criminal, a menace to society that was free to linger up and down the streets at night and terrorize and hurt other people. A '_malchick'_ in his language. Linda had been sure to stay away from him. Yet, at the same time she felt incapable.

She had been so stupid to believe it. The thought was so childish. It reminded her of the girls in her school: swooning over boys that do not want nor care for them; making fools of themselves and constantly making advances whether sexually implied or not. Boys like Alex were never 'boyfriend material'. They were only interested in the old in and out, in and out; nothing more. It hurt sometimes to think of it when she laid in her bed listening to these stories. She always Alex as pictured prince charming and herself as the princess, no matter how hard she tried not to do so. It was so ludicrous. Turning over in her bed, she listened to the rest of the story, and then heard Moyra's angelic voice speak.

"Does prince charming love Cinderella?"

'_No,' _Linda thought.

"Of course he does. What would make you say such a thing?" Gran asked.

"Because Linda said that boys never really love girls. She said they're bad to them."

She heard the hesitation in Gran's voice, "Well Linda is young, just like you. You'll both find love, you just have to wait. Don't let things like that bother you, darling." She said this with comfort and tenderness in her voice, but Linda knew she was holding back all the concern and slight aggravation she felt.

"Okay."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Night, Gran."

A few moments later, Linda heard the door close gently and hers open a little more than the crack it was earlier. She could feel the old woman's eyes on her back, not in a bad manner, but a worried one. Linda curled up into a ball more. The urge of tears came to her, yet she would restrain them until the door was completely closed.

"You should not tell her those kinds of things, Linda," Gran's voice broke the silence. "She is too young to be told such sad things." She felt one side of the bed sink slightly and a warm hand on her shoulder, "It will pass with time. Heartache is an awful burden to bear for someone as young as you."

Gran kissed her temple, and she saw her room go into seer darkness. Linda let out a sob…


	2. Innocence and Evil

"Linda? Can I have candy?"

"No, Moyra. You haven't had lunch yet."

"But I want it now…"

"I said 'no."

"Humph!"

Linda was never sure whether she liked taking Moyra out on Sunday walks or not. The six-year-old was normally well behaved, but she could be a fussy little thing when she wanted to be. It was precisely twelve in the afternoon when they found themselves walking past a sweet shop. Moyra had noticed the various colored candies in the window display with a cartoon teddy bear cuddling a large lollipop. It had been a pretty picture, and being exactly that, Moyra had spotted it right away. Linda wished candy shops could be more discrete-at least when they passed by-so the child was not so eager to go inside.

"Can we get it after lunch then?" Moyra asked as she was dragged away.

"Yes," Linda answered. "You can have as many as you want."

"Really?" She beamed at her hopefully.

Linda thought, "Alright, not as much, but enough.".?docid=21107815

Moyra made another noise of displeasure, but Linda dismissed it. In a little while, Moyra would forget that she had even asked for candy until they passed it again on their way home. That was the mind of a six-year-old. Linda held the child's hand as she walked. Men occasionally glanced at the English beauty that walked past them, dressed in her black strapped dress with a white collared sweater underneath that curved and dipped to fit her slender figure. Her long silvery blond hair fell back towards her waist and blew behind her in the soft winds, while emerald greens focused on the streets ahead of them. Moyra was Linda in miniature, dressed in a pink and red polka dot dress, white stockings, shoes and lime green cardigan. Proper clothes for proper ladies.

"When are we going to eat, Linda?" Moyra asked.

"Soon. The Cove is just here. We'll be there in no time, I promise," She said.

The Cove was a small lavish restaurant where the rich and wealthy dined. Linda had made reservations earlier in the day for them, since getting a table on a simple walk-in would be nearly impossible. Walking inside, one would see the cherry paneled walls; pea green carpet and crystal chandelier hanging high above them; the large windows let in light to the rest of the place, seeing all the groups and couples there. It was the typical high society sight. It was nothing that Linda was not familiar with.

"Good afternoon, madam," The young hostess smiled at them both "How many?"

" table for two, Van Patten," She told her with a pretty grin.

She scanned the list in front of her, and then beamed to them, "Right this way, madam."

The two Van Pattens followed the girl to a table next to one of the wide windows. She gave Moyra cup of crayons and paper, and handed Linda menus. With a 'your waiter will be here soon', the girl left them to decide what they wanted to eat. Moyra drew on the paper quietly; Linda perused the menu.

"What do you want to eat first, Moyra?" Linda asked.

"Chips with lots of ketchup."

"Chips it is," That was what Linda loved about her little sister. She was so easily pleased.

It was then that everything started. It was right at that moment (twelve-fifteen, to be exact) that the course of Linda's life would be changed. Scanning over the list of appetizers, she was deciding between the small serving of chips or caviar with crackers when she noticed something dark coming towards her window. A young man in a purple coat with a walking stick was strolling up the street next to the restaurant. He had fair colored hair with bright blue eyes that were visible even in the distance. Linda had never seen anything like him before. Mostly due to the fact that the boys she knew never wore such things and were not as handsome.

He went past them, yet when he got close enough to her, the boy looked at her and winked with a smirk on his face. She could not help but blush when he did. She looked away from the window when he was gone from her sight, even though the image of him was imprinted in her mind. To any parent or adult, he would have appeared like a good-mannered boy from a nice family. To Linda, she sensed the air of depravity in him. The way he walked so confidently down the street; the smug leer on his face and the sense of superiority about him. She deduced he was some handsome rich boy who was given the world on a silver platter. Perhaps he was not in reality. He could be a boy who steals the world from the platter, then viciously beats you with it. They had those kinds of boys nowadays. It was scary to think about.

The wickedness of men never showed any bounds.

"What would you two ladies like to start off with?" A male waiter came to their table with a friendly grin on his face and a notepad in his hand.

"Some chips please," Linda said without thinking about it. Moyra hated caviar in any case, "With a glass of milk for the little one and some water for me."

He jotted it down, gave a bow, and walked away. Then Moyra spoke, "Do you like that boy, Linda?"

"What boy?" She asked, even though she knew who the child was talking about.

"The boy at the window; the one who looked at you. Do you like him?" She sounded so innocent and curious. It was one of her sister's finer traits.

She laughed and smiled, "You can't like someone you don't know."

"Oh. Would you ever like him? It looked like he liked you. He looked back, and mummy says when a boy looks back at you, he likes you."

"It's a possibility," Linda answered, now reading the menu for their main dishes, "Love is a lot more complicated than you think it is, Moyra."

Moyra said no more, but seemed to be thinking about it as she continued drawing on her paper. She watched her for a moment, now seeing the more serious look on her face rather than the delighted and entertained one. It bothered her that her sister was so pensive. Children should be carefree, not sitting at home wondering and worrying over the little things in life. Yet, it was this exact innocence that Linda enjoyed seeing. Watching her little sister, she felt more at ease knowing there was still some good in the world where there was so much bad. She knew of the dangers that crept through the night; the gangs stalking the streets looking for prey. Linda would read about all those terrible stories in the papers and wonder how the world could sink to such a violent level. Evil was at every corner now, whether she knew it or not.

For instance, that boy could seem like a gentleman now, but at night could be a complete villain. Setting this aside, the waiter came back with their appetizer. Linda dunked a bit of ketchup on the plate for Moyra, who dug into it instantly. Linda dipped one into the pile of the red substance, and bit into it. Looking back out the window, she wondered-for a moment-whether the boy would come back past their window. She normally did not ponder upon boys, because they never gave her any reason to do so.

Yet, this one, stayed there, and he would stay there forever.


	3. Pure Trouble

The two sisters left the cafe earlier than expected, considering Moyra had hastily finished her lunch. She was still determined to have her sweets no matter what. Linda knew a sugar-rush was the last thing she needed, but being her sister was practically spoiled, she would have to give it to her. It was not as if they did not have the money. Their father worked closely with the minister and the government, which would could only mean the Van Patten family would live well. Walking down the street once more, Moyra was playfully skipping ahead-Linda's hand grasped on hers-towards the small candy shop a few stores ahead. Linda was already searching through her hand bag as they dawdled. There, she rifled through the lipsticks, compacts, and various other items before taking a stop in the middle of the way.

"God damnit," She cursed, "Where is it?" Her large pink wallet was probably sitting at the bottom of the leather bag. She grunted.

Slowly moving, it was when she heard Moyra speak that she looked up.

"I was on my way to have candy," She had said."

Linda looked up to see Moyra looking into the face of a fair-haired boy in a purple coat. She glared slightly. Moyra knew better. Stalking over to them, she had heard the boy say in a voice covered with sweetness.

"Well, dear malenky sister, Uncle Alex will kupet it for you and then we can frilly together," He said.

"I don't know," Moyra said, "My big sister-"

"Moyra!" Linda half-yelled. She walked up to the two, the boy rising with a grin. "What are you doing?"

"We were only talking," She said innocently, "I didn't do anything wrong."

Seeing the sadness in the girl's almond shaped eyes, much similar to her sisters', Linda frowned , "I'm sorry, darling. I just don't want you getting lost."

"Ah, the bloshy sister," The boy stood up to face her. Linda could already see the intrigue in his eyes. Only it was not the kind of intrigue that was curious or pondering, but interested in a way that she did not like knowing about. Pale blues looked her up and down; she tried to hide her disgust. Men were so predictable. Tossing her long hair behind her shoulder, she grabbed her sister's hand.

"This is Alex," Moyra told her. "He's my new friend."

"Moyra," She looked down at her, "He is not your friend."

"That's not nice," The boy said, "I was only govoreeting with the malenky devotchka ."

"I know your type," She said somewhat haughtily.

"And what type would that be, sister?" He said, mocking her somewhat as he moved around her with his cane on his shoulder.

"A complete ruffian," She answered. "A villain and a...a...hooligan, who preys on people weaker than him because it makes him feel more like a man. I tend to have my sister away from your-"

"Now how does thou fiddle with that? I reckon that we have never met before," He was no longer speaking in that weird language boys speak. Then he moved close to her, "Even though I think you're dobby smottovat for a bigatty devotchka." Alex extended a hand to lift her chin to him, but she moved away with a scoff. "I would like to shvat you out with me like me and my droogs. They would love a lovely devotchka like you."

She scoffed, "In your dreams." She took Moyra's hand and they began to walk again.

He followed behind, "If you are in my sneets, then I'll spatchka forever, lovely."

Linda shook her head with irritation. Alex came into step with them, that smug smirk still on his face, "Come out with like me, I'll make it worth your raz."

"No, thank you sir."

"I'm sure I can do veshches to you that those malchicks you know can't," He winked.

She hid her pink cheeks by pretending to look into a store window. It did not work, since Alex then said, "You're blushing. I seem to be doing dobby so far."

"I am not," She said. "There is nothing you could possibly do that would make me interested in you."

"Oh really?" He looked down to Moyra, "Do you think there is something your Uncle Alex can do to get your sister?"

She giggled, "She likes lollipops and chocolate...And flowers! Orchids!"

"Quiet you," Linda snapped, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"That's really dobby," He grinned. "A choodessny nachinat. Anything else?"

"Do not," Linda cut in, "Answer.

"She likes music."

"Music," Alex was truly interested now.

"Yes," Moyra nodded with a smile. "She plays the piano-"

"Moyra Elizabeth Van Patten," At this stern voice, Moyra quieted at once and moved away to look at a television display in a store window.

Now standing next to her, Linda was not sure what exactly this boy was after. She admitted-to herself, of course-that he was good looking. She could barely resist looking into the gorgeous blue eyes that peered at her. The boy came near again, hands behind his back and on the top of his cane, a charming look on his face. Their eyes locked the moment he lifted her chin up into his face. Alex brought her towards him until they were mere inches away, no doubt to keep their conversation private from the little girl next to the display window. The minute she was in front of him, she found it difficult to get away. She stared up into the bright blues that seemed to have a shine to them. They were full of flirtation and lust. She knew why that was.

"I would love to hear you filly odin day," He told her softly. "I bet you filly beautifully."

She did not know what to say to that. Linda made the mistake of eye contact. It was like being pulled into an entirely different world, being in Alex's eyes. She could sense the sensuality and dalliance in them. They screamed how much they wanted her; needed her. The blueness in them appeared so differently to what she saw from far away. It was the same color blue that painters used when they mixed white and blue. A perfect sky blue with a slightly deeper color. Linda studied them as he stared back into hers, his face now only centimeters away. When she noticed him leaning in, she turned her face away from his. She did not kiss strangers, and certainly not kiss him. That when he whispered:

"I have never met a devotchka as dobby smottovat as you," His lips brushed her ear and he made her shudder. "Something about you really interessovats me, little sister. Let me shvat you home with like me."

That was when Linda moved away. "Absolutely not," The distaste and shock in her voice was clear. Apparently, this did not bother Alex.

"Well, you do," He said, "I can't help it."

This was all a game to him: Grab the girl, charm her, then take her home for what _they_ called the 'old in-and-out in-and-out', and then forget he ever laid eyes on her. Some girls would have fallen for his good looks, charisma, and confidence, but she would not. Linda was not that type of girl. She was a proper lady...

"Goodbye, Alex," She said finally, taking hold of Moyra's hand and stalking away with her heels clicking the pavement.

"Can I at least know your eemya? So I know what to call you when I spatchka this nochy," He called back.

She scoffed, but Moyra turned and yelled, "Her name is Linda!"

"Quiet!"

Linda could feel his eyes watching her; she turned her head back. Alex gave her one last smirk before walking in the opposite direction. She was glad. The last thing she wanted was someone like him following her home. What if he broke into their house with his little gang of 'droogs'? What if he hurt her for not letting him have her? The thought of him doing such a thing made her cringe slightly. It was not uncommon for gangs to do things such as that; she read about it all the time. Why should Alex be any different? If anything, he most likely had some sick fantasy of it. Running a hand through her hair, she tried to focus on much simpler, more pleasant things: They had to go to the grocery today, as well as pick up dry cleaning and go get medicine for Gran. She had no time for boys like...

Alex. She must confess that she loved his eyes. She had seen blue eyes of all shades, but none like his. They were different; especially in the way that they were filled with such certainty that she would give into him. The thought of them made her melt.

"I think he's cute," Moyra said once their pace turned to normal. "Do you think he's cute?"

"No," She said firmly.

"Why?"

She paused. "You're too young to be asking about boys."

Moyra grew quiet again. Linda did not scolding or being unyielding. She loved her little sister very much, and Moyra was a sweet child who was only curious about the world she saw around her. Yet, the more Moyra asked about Alex, or mentioned him, Linda would only wonder about him more. It was bothersome.

"Let's go to get Gran's medicines and then I'll take you to get some candy. How is that?" She asked.

"Yay!" She cheered and raced somewhat up the street.

Linda giggled. Moyra reached the glass doors of the pharmacy first with Linda behind her; the cold air hitting her skin right away and the general hushed atmosphere rushing over her. The two girls came up to the counter, and a young red-haired girl turned. Linda and Moyra grinned in surprise.

"Miranda!" Moyra cheered.

"Hello Miranda," Linda said to her best friend. "I didn't know you were working today; you told me you had a day off."

"Well, my boss is sick and he begged me to take over for today. He said he'd pay me overtime, and I figured why not? I can always use the money." She looked to Moyra, "And how are you today, darling?"

"Fine. We just had lunch, and now Linda's going to buy me lots of candy," She beamed.

They both laughed. "Isn't that nice of your big sister?"

"Very." She hugged Linda, who chuckled softly. "And we also met a boy."

Miranda widened her eyes and smiled, "A boy?"

"Yes, his name's Alex. He's really nice."

"No he's not," Linda grumbled.

"When were you planning to mention this Alex character?" Miranda asked with eyebrows raised.

"We only just met him in the streets," Linda said, "But he's nothing special."

"Why? Boring? Plain?"

"No, just...annoying. He's one of those blokes who thinks too much about himself and his needs; the kind that you can tell he's absolute trouble."

"Ah," Miranda said comprehensively, "But sometimes those are the best kind of boys."

"Sometimes," Linda repeated. "Not this time."

"Ugh, when will you learn to broaden your mind? If you keep waiting around for Prince Charming to show up, you'll end an old bitter woman with a million cats. Like that woman a few blocks away from you in that health farm of whatever it's called. I would hate for that to happen to you, since you're such a wonderful person. Plus, you said so yourself, you had only just met him today. How do you already know so much about him? He might turn out to be a pleasant bloke." Linda hated it when she did this.

"Trust me, I know," She reassured her.

"Alright. I'm only looking out for your best interest, that's all." She sighed, "I suppose you came for your Gran's medicines?"

"Yes, if they're here that is," Linda answered, glad of this change of subject.

"They are; I'll go get them."

They watched her disappear behind shelves of boxes labeled with initials and bold letters. There was no doubt that Linda appreciated Miranda's concerns; they had known each other since elementary, so she had always valued her point of view. However, she hated it when the red-haired girl talked to her about boys, because it always landed on the subject of Linda never having a boyfriend. It was not that she did not want one. She was merely waiting for the right boy to come along. Finally, Miranda returned with a white paper bag. Handing it to Linda, the young girl began pulling out her wallet to pay.

"Linda," Miranda asked as she took the money from her, "Did you hear about Georgina?"

"No, what happened?"

"Well, I heard this from Judy who heard it from Margaret, who then heard it from Elsie," The old grapevine trail, "That Georgina has been sneaking out of her house at night to meet up with this boy who hangs around the milk bar."

"What?" Linda leaned in a little as she stored the medicine into her purse, her voice full of shock. "No she hasn't. Georgina is a nice girl, and nice girls don't do those sorts of things."

"It's true, Elise saw it herself," Miranda slipped the money into the tin, and rested a hand on the counter, "Elsie said she had been walking in the park with John when, low and behold, there was Georgina snogging and practically shagging this same bloke in public. She told me they were really going at it."

She looked at the girl in disbelief, then crossed her arms, "If that's true, then Georgina is a filthy hypocrite. You remember the time she got mad at Judy for snogging Jeffery in the back of his car?"

"I know," Miranda said, "It was a real shocker when Elsie saw it. She told me she did not say anything to her, but she did go and tell everyone else. No surprise on that end," Miranda commented. As If that is not enough of a surprise," The red-head seemed keener now that she had an audience for her gossip, "He's not the typical boy we normally date. He's one of those boys that hangs out at night and causes mayhem. Supposedly, Judy says that Elise said that Georgina sometimes goes with them. She drinks at the milkbar, steals cars with them, and she even heard a rumor that Georgina had gotten away after breaking into some old couple's house. I couldn't believe it when I heard."

Linda shook her head in disbelief, "No, no. The shagging is believable, but stealing cars and committing crimes? Georgina is too good of a person. I don't believe it."

"Not according to Judy, Margaret and Elsie," She said in a sing-song voice. "I don't know about you, Lin, but I'm surprised her parents don't know about what their 'precious little angel' has been up to lately."

"So am I." Georgina's parents were widely known for including themselves in their daughter's life, even sometimes guiding her through it by the hand. "They're bound to find out in the end though."

"Of course," She agreed. "We'll hear about it when it happens."

"Yeah, on the news when her father is put away."

They both giggled with bright smiles. Linda knew it was wrong to laugh at the expensive of others, but girls like Georgina Robinson deserved it. She always pretended to be the prefect little princess: Top marks in all her classes; awards for every damn subject known to man; have her journalist articles published in the papers whenever she won the contest, and be a total prude. One could barely make a sex joke around her without getting a glare or remark. Linda would surely be calling her out on it next time.

"What are you up to tonight?" Miranda asked her.

"Linda," Moyra tugged on the girl's sleeve, "When are we going to get candy?"

"Soon," Linda said distractedly without looking at her, "Nothing important, why?"

"Elsie and Georgina asked me if you and I could go out with them tonight. You know, for the usual. You want to come?"

_'The usual' _meant a night of dancing, drinking, and flirting with boys they would never go anywhere with. Linda was a befitting girl with good morals, but once in a while, she liked to break those morals. Besides, it was not like she was going out stealing, hurting or terrorizing anyone. They were just having innocent fun.

"Sure," Linda answered, "When?"

"I'll come round your place at ten."

"Alright."

"Linda!" Moyra tugged harder now and this time on her dress.

"We're going now, stop it," She told her exasperated. "Bye Miranda."

"See you tonight."


	4. The Korova Milk Bar

It was ten-fifteen when Linda found Miranda's car sitting outside the building of her flat the evening. Decked out in the shimmery gold mini dress, matching shoes with her hair in silky straight strands, she walked down the steps to the car where a beaming Miranda waited inside. Linda gave the girl a once over when she slid into the passenger seat of the car; deciding the the girl decent enough with a white top and black skirt.

"Ready?" She asked when the car revved up with the engine starting.

"Would I be here if I wasn't?"

They both laughed and drove off. Their normal meeting place was outside a club called Malchicks and Devotchkas: The music boomed and blasted loudly enough to hear it as people stood outside; when the door opened, the scent of cigarettes would billow out over the crowds waiting to enter, and the sign flashed neon green and pink high above them with the lights glowing with the same color. Miranda managed to find a parking spot a half block away from the club, due to the fact that everyone seemed to want to come on the night they did. It was her conceded Linda liked to think they all came because she and the rest of the girls were there. They walked down the sidewalk with their heels clicking, hair flying, and delightful laughter.

"-And he says to me, 'Hey darling fancy a shag?' And I said 'bugger off and wank it off yourself'!" Miranda said, making them both laugh. "The nerve of men."

"Yeah," Linda concurred. "They think they can just waltz up to any girl and just ask for it like we'll do it. The ego of man is through the roof and I don't think any of them are going to wise up any time soon. Especially all these gangs that roam around at night and act like they own the entire city; they can do whatever they want without consequence. It's ludicrous."

"Well, some of them are not _that_ bad. They're actually kind of cute."

"All the same."

"What's all the same?"

They turned their heads and grinned. The pair of girls walking up to them looked like exact opposites. The one on the left had long curly chestnut hair with fair skin; the other had short, chin length curls that curtained her face nicely and her skin was a bit paler than the others'. Elsie and Georgina met with them half way up the block; Linda noticing the frilly, lilac colored dress Elsie wore and the knee length glittery violet one that Georgina had picked out for the night's "frolic" down the streets of London. Remembering what she heard about Georgina, she was not surprised to see her eager to go out for the night. They all exchanged hugs, and then set out on their walk towards the club.

"Boys," Linda answered Elsie's question, "And how their egos are bigger than the size of the world."

"Linda," Elsie said, "You have serious boy issues, the way you talk about them."

"It's not issues. It's only simple opinions. Any other girl would not say different about it."

"Says the girl who hasn't had a boyfriend in three years," Georgina snickered. "I understand you and Simon did not end well-"

"-The bastard cheated on me!-" Linda exclaimed.

"-But, that does not mean you have to shut yourself out to any other opportunities. I'm sure there is at least one good lad out there that will take a fancy to you."

"There has," Miranda told them both, Linda knew what was going to happen now, and she did not like it at all.

"Who?" They asked in unison.

'Well, her sister was the one that told me about the whole thing. She said that they had been walking out after lunch and this bloke named Alex comes by them. Obviously, by the way Moyra explained it, he was really interested in Linda. However, being who she is," The last words were said sternly to Linda, "She refused and gave him a cold shoulder."

"Was he cute?" Elsie asked.

Linda did not say anything, yet after several nudges and coaxing, she sighed. "Yes, he was kind of cute."

They all gave wide smiles. "So, why did you not talk to him after he asked you to go out with him?"

"Because, one, I do not know anything about him and two, he just...There was something about him that did not sit right with me. He had that typical arrogance that boys have nowadays. You know, the kind who wander around at night doing whatever they please. I was not going to associate myself with someone like that."

"But you could've g_otten_ to know him," Miranda winked.

"I agree with Linda," Georgina said. "She didn't know that boy at all. Who knows what he could have been like? He could have been some kind of sick rapist or something. It's good you rejected him, Linda."

Linda thought back to what Miranda had told her. Now she could see that it was true. She did not dwell on it now, but instead focused on the street in front of them.

"Linda," Elsie said, "You seriously need to stop thinking that boys are complete scum and that you already know them just by their appearance. This Alex boy could have been a real gentleman; yet here you are pretending like he's pure evil or something."

Linda sighed, but said nothing more. She knew this conversation would eventually pass and they would start talking and gossiping like girls did. The closer they drew to the club, the much louder they could hear the music and see the long line outside the door. Elsie and Miranda groaned with disappointment.

"I told you we should have come earlier," Miranda smacked Elsie gently on the arm. "Now we're gonna have to wait in the line which will take all night."

"I am not staying out here," Linda said. "Last time we stayed outside it was dead cold and we all got sick...At least I did."

They all stared at the large, crowded line of eager club-goers. If one were to come earlier, say seven or eight o'clock, they would have a decent chance of entering the club, or making the front of the line. Sadly, tonight was not one of those nights. Linda crossed her arms, thinking about having to go home and spend her night watching television with Moyra. She honestly did not like being at home. There was so much in the world to see; so many chances for her to celebrate and live her life while she still could. She could never do that sitting in the confines of her parents' flat.

"What do we do now?" Miranda asked them all. "Go to another place?"

"No," Elsie told her. "This one is the only good club in London. The rest are boring with a bunch of old men who want to feel you up."

"Then what?"

They were all silent, until Georgina spoke: "I know. The Korova Milk Bar. It's not that far from here, and there's always cute boys there...or, well, people anyways."

Elise crossed her arms, "And how exactly do you know about this place?"

Georgina hesitated, then said, "A few of the kids from church were talking about it and I happened to hear the name mentioned. It's not like I have been there or anything."

"Why suggest it then?"

"It just sounds like it's something you'd all like to do. I'm not saying we _should_ go there," She seemed a bit irritated now. It was obvious now that those rumors about her were true.

Miranda was the one that spoke now, "We might as well go. It's not like there's anywhere else to go to tonight."

"Milk bar?" Linda considered, "I'm not too sure. I mean, a lot of...those types...go there because of what they put in the drinks."

"Oh Linda!" Miranda waved her off, beginning to walk back the way they came, "It's not like anything bad is going to happen to you with just one glass."

She did not say anything, but moved along back up the street. Absorbed in her own thoughts, Linda thought of the famous Milk Bar. She heard of the unique decor of the place; the kind of people who went there, and what was in the drinks. She knew the drinks could not be terrible, but the knowing of taking drugs bothered her. Her parents had always told her they were bad for you; that she should never take them. Although, it was difficult to hold back her curiosity of it all. What was so great about it that teenagers felt compelled to go there? Running a hand through her hair, she thought about something else that she would wish she had never pondered on that she would regret ever thinking: What if Alex was there? He seemed to have the character for it, no doubt. The last thing she wanted out of her night is someone constantly flirting or suggesting things to her, specially when she knew that it would be difficult to refuse such a good looking boy. A good looking boy who showed interest in her; the kind of interest that was like what most boys gave her, but yet seemed to be a different class in itself. He was drawn to her physical appearance (like the rest of them); though he made it sound as if he wanted to really know her. It was a rouse, obviously. He was only acting in such a manner to have her.

A rouse she wished a part of her would give into...for just a moment. A second.

"Coming Linda?" She heard Miranda's voice, and found herself already standing by the car.

"Um, yes."

Linda entered the car and drove down the street. All the way there, the boy with the fair hair seemed to never leave her thoughts. He would pop in and out; interrupting the things she would rather focus on than him. This happened so often, that she had not noticed they had arrived at the bar until Miranda told her they had stopped.

On the outside, the Milk Bar seemed like an ordinary building. There was a stoop that lead into the apartment building above, meanwhile there was another set of stairs leading down into a door. A sign lit brightly reading: Korova Milk Bar. Elsie and Georgina arrived a few minutes after Miranda and Linda; Georgina appeared eager to enter the place. Plausibly, they had never been to the place before and were curious about what sat inside (well, Georgina had been there most likely). Each of the girls looked at each other.

"Should we go in?" Miranda asked.

"I suppose so," Elsie responded. "We're already here, and there's nowhere else to be on Friday nights."

"Plus," Georgina added, "We might end up having a fun time. Let's go."

She went ahead of them and was the first one to the door. Linda was still unsure of what she would find once they walked down the steps leading to the bar underneath the building. It could not be anything too bad. It was not like there was savage killers sitting inside waiting to pounce or psychotic people who had just drank five glasses and were now ready to go on fierce rampages. Also, the comfort of having her friends with her settled her feelings about this situation. Their boots and heels thumping on the stairs into the place; seeing the decent amount of people in the bar, drinking and talking. The decorations were just as she was told: Naked women designed as milk machines; some of them formed like coffee tables, and Russian phrases were all over the walls in white letters on black walls.

"This is interesting," Georgina said as she reached the bottom landing and looked around. "Different than M and D's right?"

Miranda and Elsie were trying to fight back giggles as they examined the dispensers.

"It is odd," Linda said. "Shall we sit down?"

"I'll get the drinks," Georgina called. "I know which ones to get."

"How could you possibly know that?" Linda asked. "You have never even been here."

"Christine from Biology told me about it and what they serve here, so sit!" She pushed them all towards a couch nearby and they sat as told.

It was then that Linda noticed they were not alone, and she wished now that she had never even looked towards the back of the room; that she had stayed ignorant for the rest of the night. Sadly, casually turning her head, she noticed a group of boys with bowler hats and canes; dressed in white pants, collared shirts with suspenders and...cups? It was an odd thing to wear; there was no confusion that they were some gang with clothes they had bought from thrift stores. Yet, it was not this fact that drew her attention: It was the light-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned boy from this afternoon.

Alex had noticed her-from what it looked like-the minute she came in through the door. His smirk was unmistakable. He wink and leered, but she only made a noise of annoyance and stared away. It was this exact sound that caught Miranda's attention.

"What happened?" She asked. "You don't want to be here?"

"Not anymore."

Miranda quickly averted her eyes towards the group, coasted a knowing smile at them, then at her. "Is that him? Alex?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I told you he was in a gang." She huffed, "Is he still looking?"

"No...He's talking with the bloke-oh no wait, he is. Why don't you say something to him? Go over and talk to him or give him a reason to talk to you?" She suggested.

"Surely not," Linda answered her. "I refuse to do it. If he really wants me, he'll-"

"Well, hello hello..."

_'Damnit' _The girls looked to Alex and they gave blushing smiles. Gazing up with them, she noticed he and his friends stood on the other side of the coffee table. Miranda had already returned with their drinks, passing them around. Linda took hers but did not drink it.

"Rassoodock, if we join you damas for a peet?" He asked, using his stupid boyish language that Linda despised officially.

Before she could protest, Miranda had spoken, "Not at all."

All the boys grinned as they sat in the small space the girls provided, Alex sitting right next to Linda in a way she was not happy about. Linda now had a good look at them all: The boy on Alex's right had curly black hair and a pointed nose; the one on his left seemed younger and pleasant than his fellows, while there was a large one with a face that reminded her of those old caveman cartoons, only he was less hairy with blond hair. In all, she assumed Alex had surrounded himself with people he believed were less intelligent than he was; people he could-possibly-manipulate into anything he wanted to do at the moment. Regarding their case, there must have not been a lot of convincing, seeing as the boys were very engrossed in the other girls now and ignoring their leader.

"Evening Linnie-Lin," Wonderful, he now had a pet name for her. She sighed.

"Evening," Why not just humor him? She focused her eyes somewhere else than at him; taking a sip of the milk, which strangely, tasted as if nothing was in it.

"You smot real beautiful this nochy," He stated, "I've been wondering what it is about thou that keeps my rassoodock on you."

She said nothing, but took another drink.

"Oh, why so cold, love?" He brushed the hair from her face with a tender movement that made her finally glance his way. "Is it about your malenky 'type' veshch again?"

"Yes," She said.

"I was thinking today, you know, as I lay in my bed with like you in my messles," She turned away from him again, "How is it you know what I'm govoreeting? I did not think dobby devotchkas like you govoreet or pony what my droogs and I skazat."

"We don't speak it," She explained, "But we've all had boyfriends or friends who talk like that; we kind of just picked it up along the way."

"Boyfriends?" She knew this was coming.

"Yes."

Alex was quiet for a moment, but then he sat upright to look at her more properly. "Is there a chelloveck in your jeezny?" He asked, resting his feet on the coffee table with a glass of milk in his hand on his lap. "Someone special?"

Linda had half a mind to lie and say she did. Though, looking into those mischievous eyes, she could tell he would not care much if she did have a boyfriend. If he ever had the chance, he would probably take what he wanted and leave her naked in the street. The thought of his hands all over her; ripping her clothes; grabbing and shoving...she crossed her legs. He was vial enough to do it too, which-she hated to admit it-scared her somewhat. Boys like him were dangerous. They were trouble. She ran a hand through her hair; not looking at him at all.

"Ah, so there isn't," He stated.

"There could be," She told him.

"I know there isn't, because, sister, if there was, you would have skazzed it the moment we met," He sounded so sure of himself. It annoyed her. She felt him shift and get closer to her. Unexpectedly, he did not smell of booze, cigarettes or anything like that. He smelled rather good; a light scent of cologne that could only be smelt if he was inches away from them like he was with her now. As he had that day, Alex cupped her cheek and brought her face into his. She found herself gazing into his eyes again; nearly melting at them. They were so bright they could be seen from across a crowded room; it was truly a nice aspect of him, if there was anything nice about him at all.

"You are the most beautiful devotchka I have laid my glazzies on in a long raz," Alex said softly with a light stroke of her cheek with his thumb, Haven't met odin like you before, my sister."

"What makes you say that?" She asked a bit quietly.

"The other ones are gloopy teenage devotchkas with like too much pretty polly and don't rassoodock having the old in-out in-out with like any malchick that comes along. You're a lot different than them," He brushed her ear with his lips again, "I can tell."

Linda had stayed speechless for a moment. A part of her said this was some kind of trick of him to get her, but something else screamed something about him being serious and genuine about his words. It was his eyes. They were like those chocolate candies that were sweet and lovely on the outside, but had something nasty tasting on the inside. However, the eater is still tempted to eat it, no matter is inside. It was difficult to look away from him until a girlish giggle caught her attention.

It seems her friends were taking more to the boys than she was too Alex. Georgie and Miranda were already kissing; Dim and Elise were on that path there, while Pete and Georgina were locked together with their hands all over each other. It was kind of disturbing to watch. Did they have no decency? Some people nearby had taken it upon themselves to on-look at them with interest. She was a bit ashamed to be sitting beside them.

"Would thou like to go somewhere private?" Alex asked again, tucking some hair from her face to whisper in her ear.


	5. Mind Consuming

Linda narrowed her eyes, "Absolutely not!"

"I would like it if you did.." He said in a voice drenched with _sweetness_.

"Well, I don't care what you would like it," Linda said.

That was when he advanced further: That warm hand went up, his lips came closer, and Linda backed away after slapping him across the face with fierce hatred. She knew he was bad news; she saw this coming and had done nothing about it until now. It was low. It was vial and disgusting. How dare he think she would give into him so easily with just a few simple words. She was not like those other girls who could be so easily persuaded. Linda could not take this any longer. Standing up, she looked at him appallingly; her hair flying a little bit in the sudden stance she had taken. Glancing towards her distracted friends, she decided it was better to leave them be and walk out herself.

"Goodnight Alex," She said to him. "I will _not_ be seeing you again." On that note, she turned around and went up the stairs and into the street.

The air was a bit colder than it had been when she had gone into the milk bar: The wind cascading onto her skin, chilling it slightly; sweeping through her hair every so often, and her body shivered at the first impact. The young girl could not believe the nerve of him; of any boy really. It was ridiculous of him to even suggest taking her elsewhere. As if she would let him. Boys like him did not deserve girls like her. Why would want her? When he can have any girl he wants by simply taking it without question? He was handsome enough; clever and cunning enough to get away with it. There was no law or order in this city anymore. The government let the youth run wild like animals; not bothering to do anything about it.

Hugging herself, she looked around for Miranda's car. She was not entirely sure where they had parked, but it could not far. Constantly checking around, Linda felt the fear sink into her mind. The streets were dangerous at night, especially for women and young girls. She thought of the possibility that she could be snatched up at any moment; dragged into an abandoned area or an alleyway and attacked by a group of men. It made her shudder. Linda heard stories all the time about girls being viciously assaulted in the streets and-occasionally-left for dead. She did not want to be one of those girls. Frantically, she searched up and down the streets, hoping she will find the car soon and be able to take refuge inside it, possibly even drive it home and promise Miranda to come back when she was finished doing whatever it was they would do with those boys. Heels clicking, Linda walked.

It was when she heard a set of footsteps that she gave a small gasp. The small hope that it could just simply be an old man on his way home or another innocent person, yet that seemed unlikely. Linda lowered her head, trying to block out the noise of the foot falls that were edging closer and closer, even speeding somewhat.

"Excuse me, Miss," A voice said.

Linda jumped and turned. In front of her was an elderly man with a tufft of white hair, glasses and books in his arms. He had accidentally bumped into Linda, which had caused her to jump.

"I'm sorry, Miss," The man turned, "I did not mean to frighten you."

"It is fine, sir," Linda told him as she fixed herself up.

"I do not blame you for being jumpy. The streets are dangerous in these hours, Miss. You best get yourself home quickly."

"Of course, sir." That was what she was trying to do, obviously.

"Well, goodnight, Miss."

"Goodnight, sir, and be careful."

He nodded and left her side, walking further up the street at a quick pace. Linda exhaled a long breath, heat causing smoke to emitt. Facing forward again, she began walking passed the entrance of a side street. She had been bowing her head and hiding her face from the world, because she was afraid of what else she might come across in these late hours. Linda was right near the threshold of the side street when she felt an arm hook around her waist and a hand clasp over her mouth. She began to panic; her body struggling with her attackers', her hands trying to remove his arm from her waist and her screams being muffled as the man dragged her into the alley.

Once deep enough into the darkness, Linda was thrusted against the wall and pinned to it by strong hands. Tears fell down her rosy cheeks and her lips quivered as she gazed up at the man. His bowler hat and hair were silhouetted in the dim light behind him; the faint scent of cologne and the warmth of his body was recognizable and unmistakable at once. She continued to fight back, kicking as his shins and legs which let between hers as she was lifted up by her thighs.

"Please stop!" She cried, but he only slapped her hard. "Please! Let me go!"

"You are very, very pretty," Alex's voice muffled as he hungrily kissed her neck. "Yet, it is hard to viddy it with like all these platties on your plott."

She heard the sound of rips and tears on her dress; her skin now exposed to the cold air. Linda sobbed her pleas; begged him to stop, but he merely undressed his lower half as he trailed kisses from her neck to her cheek to her lips. The kiss was harsh, hard and almost brutal. He held her arms higher above her head as he kissed her. She screamed even in this kiss; ignoring the fact that...He felt good. The pain he gave her as he kissed her this one moment; the roughness, the hungry eagerness he had for her, the pain of his teeth piercing her flesh and no doubt leaving marks. The way he forced her; the way he twisted her mind and made her bend to his will as forcibly as he could was suddenly irresistible. Linda nearly gave in for a moment as she felt something she had never felt with other boys.

Regular boys would whisper sweet words and compliments, not Alex. He simply grunted or moaned once or twice. He seemed unconcerned about her dislike and crying. Once, she tried moving from him as he kissed her, but he merely grabbed her jaw and forced her to face him again. Her cries mixed with his moans; she attempted to escape with each grab and squeeze he gave, which added to his painful lust.

Alex eventually stopped pushing and moved away from her, panting and watching her slide to the floor. Linda drew her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth as she sobbed. She now expected Alex to run off to leave her be where she was, but he surprised her again. He bent down and lifted her chin. She did not need to see perfectly to feel the softness in his face. Mascara and eyeliner were smugged and running down her cheeks; her lipstick was smeared on her lips; she dress was torn and tattered from him taking it apart. She felt him draw closer, but did not turn away. She simply sobbed.

There was a light peck on her lips then; a sweet affectionate kind of kiss a man would give the woman he was infatuated with in order to comfort her. His warm hand cupped her chin and kissed her further, giving small brief kisses. A thumb wiped her tears; her sobbing ceased.

"Go on then," She said to him harshly. "Leave. Haven't you had enough of me?"

"No. Not entirely," He said in between his kisses. "Of course, I only shvat it twice if I know I will never have it a second raz, little sister. Good night."

She felt him dress and leave her there, whistling a particular tune that resembled 'Singing in the Rain' and swinging his cane as if he was taking a normal stroll. Linda watched him go until he was gone, and then she stood up, holding the remains of her dress together and walked. There was a new soreness in between her thighs; hot fluid caked on her neck now and a few bruises where he had clutched so hard. No longer crying so much, Linda made her way down the street again, limping somewhat and walking ragged.

It was late in the night. Gran, Mummy, Daddy and Moyra will be in bed at this hour. Hopefully she had scarves she can wear...

Mummy and Daddy had said nothing when Linda came to the breakfast table with a frilly pink scarf wrapped around her neck the next morning. Her sweater covered her arms and her torso, and her skirt was a little longer today. Moyra was calmly eating her cereal; Mummy was sipping coffee while she spoke on the telephone and Daddy read the newspaper while nibbling on a piece of toast every so often. Gran? She did not really know.

"Morning sweetums," Her mother cut into her conversation as she kissed Linda's cheek. "You were out late last night. When did you get home?"

"Three o'clock," Linda answered as she kissed Daddy and Moyra's cheeks, "I'm sorry. It will not happen again."

"It's fine, dear," Daddy said passively. "We know you were up to no trouble."

She smiled at the as she made her way towards the kitchen counter, but frowned when her back was turned. The events of the other night had plagued her mind, but not in the sense it would have with other girls. There was no visions of death or of reliving the nightmare in her head. Actually, she had remembered something about Alex with her in her bed. Linda was not struggling as she did before, but she had been pinned down; his kisses were still comfortless, and her bed was as hard as the brick wall, yet rocked with each movement. Linda poured a cup of her coffee, the steam rising as she did so, not really thinking of the task. What had unnerved her about the dream was the pleasure. The satisfaction she had gotten out of the whole experience. She even begged him for more.

She shook slightly.

"Something wrong, Linda?" She heard her mother's voice say.

"No, Mummy," Linda replied, looking round at them. "I'm alright."

She returned to the table with her toast and coffee, sitting down beside Moyra who stared at her as she spooned her cereal. Linda was used to her sister observing her: Drinking when she did; eating the same moment she did, even sitting crossed legged. She thought it was sweet. Although today, Moyra did none of these things. She simply stared.

"What?" Linda asked when she could no longer stand the staring.

"Nothing," She said innocently, returning to her bowl. "I was only wondering why you have that bruise on your shoulder."

"What?" This question was bewildered. She knew her sweater was a bit cut at the neckline, but it had covered her collarbone well.

Her parents stared up at them. "Bruise?" Mummy reached over to pull the neckline to the side to reveal the large purple and blue mark on her daughter's shoulder. "Oh Linda, what happened?"

"Did someone hurt you, Pumpkin?" Daddy asked concernedly.

Linda paused momentarily, and then replied, "No. I was walking into the door and I banged my shoulder. Must have lost my footing. There's nothing to worry about."

They both stared suspiciously, but then accepted her answer. Linda tried her best not to glare at her little sister, who had gone back to her routine of copying Linda's actions. After some time, Daddy stood from the table, grabbed his briefcase and wished them all a good day as he kissed Mummy on the way out; Mummy pulled on her coat at the door and bid Moyra to follow her to start on their way to school, while Linda sat alone at the table before taking up her school bag and doing the same.

Outside the building, she waved as Mummy and Morya drove by her and a familiar black car rolled up in front of her. "Come on, classes aren't going to hold because we're not present, even though they should. Why start without us?"

Miranda laughed as she opened the car door and they began to drive off towards the school. "So, what happened with you and that bloke last night?" Linda asked before Miranda starting throwing questions.

Miranda giggled with a blush on her cheeks, "Things...Georgie's actually pretty good at-"

"-Please," Linda cut across, "No details."

"Well, you asked and I was answering. So, to rate it fairly and give you a softer version, Georgie and I took a...trip...in my car."

Linda chucked softly, "A trip? I doubt that highly."

"Well, alright Ms.I'm-So-Saint-Like," She said as they turned a corner, "What did you and Alex do?"

"What?" The third time she had asked this question this morning. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, when you left unceremoniously, Alex followed you up the stairs. I am going to fill in the blank and say he caught up with you and something naughty occurred."

When she winked, Linda felt her stomach churn. Yes, Miranda was her best friend, but she was not about to explain that confusing situation that had happened the other night. She could not even begin to understand it herself. Why tell someone who would not understand and was not there when it happened? The fact she was raped in such an odd fashion was confusing enough. Looking right at Miranda she said:

"I didn't see him," She lied. "I went back home alone."

"Why didn't you just wait for me to come get you then? Or why didn't you take the car and come pick me up later?"

"Because I knew that you would be with that boy," She said, looking into the window. "I did not want to be the driver of an overly affectionate couple in the backseat."

Miranda laughed, "I wouldn't call it 'affectionate' what we did, but if that's what you say."

Thankfully, the questions stopped there. Linda went back into the events of that night. Alex had been so rough and then gentle. She could still feel the heat of his lips on hers for those two minutes he had been kissing her; yes, she had counted the seconds. Her hand absentmindedly reached her chin, where his hand had been when he kissed her so sweetly. Her heart raced merely thinking about those few moments when Alex had taken her without permission; had stolen a piece of her that he was going to keep forever. She toyed with the end of her scarf where a painful bitemark sat on the side of her neck, near the one on her collarbone that Moyra had spotted. Linda shut her eyes and saw him there. Even in the darkness of that alley she could see him perfectly in her mind. His piercing blue eyes boring into hers; his lips curving into that evil smirk of his, and those hands that went up her dress that night. His voice rung in her head, those simple words being spoken as if they had been lovers who had fought and Alex was regretting ever hurting her.

What made him so sure that he would get another chance? What were the odds they would meet again? It was as if he knew more about her than he let her think. It somewhat amazed her how he could read her so well. It was like she was an open book for him to read...tear..rip apart without any remorse. Yet, what if he did feel some remorse, even it were only just a small smidge of it? The tone of his voice hinted a bit; the comforting way he kissed her and wiped her tears.

He really was a confusing boy, Alex. Him and his silly mind game. He was so...

"Ugh..."

Aggravating. Troublesome. Bothersome. Tricky. Impulsive. Violent. Abusive. She hated the very thought of him. Then, he seemed to remain in her mind the entire time she sat in school; tuning out the professor's voice and not paying much attention to what was going on in the lesson. Linda tried to focus...but could not.

All because of _him_.


	6. The 'Type' Eegra

Alex had been wrong about one thing: Linda never saw him again after that night. Not in the cafe; not any of the shops she went to, not even around school. It was like he had simply been a figment in her dreams that had vanished when she woke up. Not that she was disappointed. Linda was quite glad that they had not run into each other. The longer the time passed since that night, the less and less she thought of Alex. She no longer thought of his eyes, his lips, his hands, nothing. She was not constantly picturing him holding her against the wall or his teeth sinking into her flesh.

The dreams, though. Those twisted; insane dreams she was having about him had never stopped. Night after night she tossed and she turned, visions of them in various places: cars, backs of shops, alley ways, abandoned buildings, her bedroom having sex. Their bodies tangled up together; lips touching; hips colliding. All the while, the violence of it was emphasized. They bit, scratched, even smacked each other until noses and lips bled. Any normal girl would think it painful and be crying her eyes out. In her dreams, Linda was enjoying every second of it. She knew this because in that small space between sleep and waken, she felt something pulse inside her. Gran had even pointed out that she muttered and moaned in her sleep sometimes.

"Linda?"

Snapping back into reality, she turned to look up at Judy. The medium sized brunette was standing a few feet from her. The record shop came into focus again: the music blaring throughout the colorful place; the various stacks and shelves of records stood ceiling high and both of them standing near a desk where boxes of them sat at the edge. Apparently, Judy had been trying to give her a record, but being lost in her thoughts, she had not reacted right away.

"What?" She asked.

"The Beatles record," Judy answered. "The one you wanted for your birthday, but it hadn't come out yet. They have it. Here."

Gently, Linda took the large record album from her, but then focused back on the small section of music. This particular part had classics like Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, and Chopin. Linda had grown up listening and playing these classical compositions because of Gran. She would sit beside the elderly woman as her bony and wrinkled fingers sailed and danced on the soft white and black keys. Naturally, Linda would never be as good as the greats, but-all modesty aside-she was rather good. She did like other kinds of music-she was not close-minded-but the classics were her favorites. Picking up a Chopin record in the far back of the stack, she thought about taking it home and listening to it. In the corner, she spotted a small sticker that read: "Original Music Sheets Inside". Linda grinned. She could see if she could possibly recreate it in a way; maybe just a piece from it. It was not like she had anything better to do these days.

"Don't you already have that one?" Judy asked when she saw what Linda was holding.

"No," She answered, "You're thinking of the other one."

"Are you going to buy it?"

"Maybe. I do want to play some new material, and it says it has the music sheets inside, so perhaps I can learn it piece by piece until I have it right."

"Piano version?"

"Yes."

Deciding finally that she would buy it, Linda turned around. She groaned slightly. Alex was standing nearby with two pretty girls that were giggling as he spoke to them. It was a bit pathetic, how they were throwing themselves at him like he was some kind of famous pop star. Linda looked back to a new set of music, this time small tapes of all colors and of all musicians to avoid gazing at him. Her mind was not really attentive to the rows of tapes. No, it was focusing on the girlish laughter and voices that carried through the blaring music of the shop. Alex's voice was distinguishable, but not enough to understand what he was saying. Whatever it was, they seemed pretty amused and giddy about it.

"Linda?" Judy shook her, "You alright?"

"Yes," Linda said. "I'm alright."

At the sound of her name, Alex turned his head back over his shoulder. A smirk went across his face; yet he did not approach her. She figured this might happen. He had gotten what he wanted, so he was no longer interested in her. Linda did not really care; picking up a Beethoven tape to examine, she continued to ignore him. She had been counting on not seeing him, yet here he was only a few feet away from her. She ran a hand through her hair idly.

"Oh Linda," Judy called her attention, "This one also has the music sheets for one of Mozart. You can take that one too..."

"Mozart, eh?"

She sighed deeply before turning fully around. Alex stood much closer now, the two girls walking away behind him with envious glares at Linda and Judy. His cane was up on his shoulder casually; his eyes filled with a friendliness the combined with a cocky smirk. He only had eyes for Linda it seemed, since he came closer to her.

"I personally prefer Beethoven," He said, "The ninth particularly."

"Everyone loves the ninth," She replied.

"As they well should, my sister. It is a great work of art."

Judy had been grinning the entire time he stood there, and then looked to Linda. "I'll see you later."

"What? Where are you going?" She asked her with a slight voice of desperation in her voice.

"I have to meet Roger at his work. We're going to the park for a walk and then to dinner, so I'll telephone you tomorrow and tell you what happens. Bye."

Judy winked and then walked away. Linda watched her leave; accepting the fact that her friend had abandoned her. Honestly, Linda was actually a little afraid to be around him after what happened the last time they had met. Tingles went down her spine at the thought of him holding her to the wall; thrusting and pounding while she screamed for him in pleasure. The mark on her neck had not fully healed, but she was able to wear a turtleneck sweater in the cold weather. Linda spun back to the records; Alex only stood next to her. His hand grazed over hers as he took hold of the Chopin record she had in her possession. She watched him glance over it before handing it to her.

"I like to meet a devotchka who has a bolshy taste in music," He said when she took it back. "Most I meet listen to all the poppy-loppy stuff."

'Poppy-loppy'. It was kind of a funny word. Linda didn't realize what a mistake grinning was until he noticed it.

"What a beautiful smile," He said, much more interested now. "I knew it was...I'm never wrong about a devotchka. Especially one like you."

"What do you mean 'one like me'?" She asked.

"Are we not fillying the 'type' eegra? You tell me what type I am, and I tell you yours?" Alex leaned against the rack, hands on the stick's handle and amusement on his handsome face.

"If we are," Linda said, "What type do you think I am?" She was curious about what he thought of her, even though it meant nothing.

He suddenly became dangerously close, his voice clear over the loud shop music. The scent of his cologne was the same as last night, sweet and alluring. It brought back all kinds of memories, but that was not what Linda was focused towards. It was the soft brush he gave to her cheek; the chin lift, the seduction drenching his voice. He brought his lips to her ear and whispered gently, "The bugatty devotchka who pretends to be sladky and innocent when really she's a grahzny malenky veshch..."

Their bodies were an inch or so away, like last night. His breath made the hairs on her neck stand up; twist and turn her insides. She was bewitched. Completely enchanted.

"The kind of devotchka who acts as though no malchick can lovet her attention. Plays hard to get. Challenges me...Intrests me," His lips brushed the very edge of her ear; his hands slinked onto her sides, "The devotchka I vareet on having odin day..."

Alex placed a loving kiss on her neck above the collar of her sweater. Then another. Then another. When he nibbled on her clothed shoulder, she immediately pushed him away and smacked him.

"In your dreams," She said.

"Always."

Linda made to leave, but he brought her back, "You know I'll only follow you. Anywhere you go. So why run? Like the thought of someone wanting you...chasing after you?"

She pulled her arm away from him, "Because I want to be as far away from you as humanly possible."

Alex let her go, but she could feel his eyes on her as she threw her money at the store clerk and walked out. The wind flowed through her hair as she stormed down the street away from the shop. Alex's nerve never ceased to amaze her. Her annoyance propelled her on her way home, hoping that he would not follow. The small feeling in the back of her mind guessed that he would follow her, regardless of whether she wanted him to or not. Boys like Alex did what they wanted whenever they wanted. They did not care if the girl said 'no'; the shopkeepers begs for them to stop trashing their store or the pleas of an elderly man they assualted. Ruffians were ruthless. Epecially the ones that lived in England.

Very little time passed before she felt someone come beside her and link their arm around hers. She was about to pull away when she heard:

"So, how did it go?" Judy asked with a girlish giggle. "Made plans for tonight?"

All irritation went away with the appearance of Judy. "No," Linda answered, feeling comfortable now. "I'm perfectly free."

She was silent for a moment. "Why are you so stubborn? Alex was a nice-lookin' bloke. Would it have really killed you to at least consider going out with him?"

"What made you think he had asked me?"

"Boys always ask out girls they like, and Alex doesn't look like the kind of bloke who shys away from a chance. Being alone with you could have been an opprotunity...did he ask?" She nudged her.

"No, and I would not have said yes either way."

"Why?"

She wished she could tell her. She really did, but so many things would unfold if she told anyone: The police getting involved; her parents sending her to a therapist; being shut up in the house and Alex being arrested. Unaware of it now, deep down inside, Linda did not like the idea of Alex being shut up in prison. Boys like him-regardless of what they say-are too fragile and pretty for an ugly, harsh place like prison. No matter what kind of faults he had, or how she really felt about him or the things he had done, she did not want to see him being hauled off to jail. So, she kept her silence. Linda told Judy passively to drop the subject and come home with her to listen to her new Beatles record until the time came to walk to Moyra's school. Thankfully, Judy agreed.

When they arrived at Moyra's school awhile later, Judy parted from them and the two sisters went home. Mummy came home from the police station where she worked as a secretary; Daddy's day at the office had been busy, and Gran said the supermarket was pleasant. After dinner, Linda bathed and dressed in her room. There was nothing out of the ordinary for Linda Van Patten.

If she had looked in her vanity mirror as she removed her towel, however, she would have seen the figure sitting in the darkness of the tree outside her window…wearing a black bowler hat and devilish blue eyes peering right at her...


	7. Son Animal De Compagine

He was a disease. He was something she could not shake off or cure. Wherever she went, no matter how hard she tried, there would be a reminder of him: A frilly dress Moyra owned that was the exact same blue as his eyes; a man she passed in the street had a walking stick; seeing a gang of boys harassing an old man (she had turned the other way). It was as if the entire world wanted to stroke her mind's chords and bring him up.

Thankfully, a few more days passed of not seeing him. She hoped that their most recent encounter would be their last. Linda did not think she could take anymore of his egotistical attitude, and his maddening ability of speaking his mind too much, his cleverness and the way he…enchanted her. She hated admitting that his soft words made her knees weak; his eyes caused her heart to melt and that she could simply not turn away once he caught her. Linda hated all those dreams she had with her waking up and unable to control her arousals. She hated confessing it because then it made all his words true:

She did like it. Every minute. Whenever she saw that fading bite mark on her neck, her stomach knotted.

Her friends need to butt into her love life died away after she had snapped at them all. She was glad because this was at least one thing that made her life seem normal again. Mummy, Daddy and Gran went to work; Moyra and she went to school; she spent her afternoons with her friends if not at her piano, and her nights ended with warm showers and comfortable clothes.

Sadly, this did not last long.

It was early after school. Linda had missed her last French class because she had to care for Moyra, who had fallen ill. Completely lost as her teacher babbled away in rapid French, Linda knew she had to see the notes if she wanted to finish the homework. So, once the bell rang for dismissal, she caught up with Miranda, whom had the same subject.

"Miranda?" She stopped her just outside the school gates,

"Lemme guess, you don't have the notes for French?" Miranda cut in ahead of time.

"No. Can I have yours?"

"Of course, love," She watched as the girl shuffled around a few books in her bag, and then handed her the long scribbled notes. "Here. You can always use the book you know, wouldn't kill you."

She laughed, "Notes are easier to understand. Where you going now?"

"Out with my mother. She wants to go shopping."

"Alright. I guess I'll call you later then..."

"Yeah. Have fun with Alex," She winked. "Judy told me you two-"

"-What happened to not talking about it?" Linda snapped.

"Alright, alright," She put her hands up, "No need to get defensive. I'll see you later on. Bye,"

"Bye." "

Miranda walked away and Linda began moving in the opposite direction, eyes focused on the paper. Her school uniform consisted of a blue blazer, white button down and blue pleated skirt with socks and black shoes. The bite mark had finally gone away and left her worry-free. The mark had been the last reminder of Alex, and she was glad it healed. It was when she bumped into a solid figure that she looked up. Alex's blue eyes stared down at her with delight.

"Hello, love," He grinned. "Miss me?"

"No," Linda said bluntly.

She moved past him, doing her best to pretend he was not there. As she knew he would, Alex came up beside her in the same brisk walk. His eyes burned into her, but she ignored them. Linda looked back to her paper.

"What you got there, sister?" Alex asked, snatching the paper from her hand and skimming over it. "Ah, French. I used to take it before I stopped going to school."

"Why am I not surprised?" She took the paper back from him and kept walking.

"That I speak French?"

"That you skip school. Plus, you probably did not pay any attention anyways, since your types don't care too much for school."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, little sister," He pulled her arm and they came to a halt. "En fait, je pay beaucoup d'attention à l'école, je ne choisissent de ne pas aller."

_(* "I actually pay a lot of attention in school, I only choose not to go.")_

She was a bit shocked by this. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she coughed and continued walking. Linda understood what he had said. She had taken two years of French; now on her third. He trailed behind her.

"Vous a-je surpris? J'ai tendance a' le faire avec les femmes," He spoke so fluently. Accent and all.

_(* "Did I surprise you? I tend to do that with women")_

Linda looked back to him, "Serait-il vous tuer de me laisser tranquille?"

_( * "Would it kill you to leave me alone?" )_

"It might," He said simply. "What if I think of you when I'm goolying and get tolchock by a car?"

"Then let it happen. The world would be much better without-"

"-Without my type, yes, I figured that bit out for myself thanks," He sounded a bit irritated now. "What is it with like you bugatty devotchkas and your pride? I'm starting to find it annoying."

"If it annoys you so much, why not just leave me alone then?" She began walking again, her hair flying behind her in the soft November winds.

A flash of black and Alex had her up against the wall of a brick building. Passersby said or did nothing because they assumed the two of them were lovers having a quarrel or argument. Linda made the mistake of taking in his scent. The memories of that night flooded her brain as well as the river of dreams that came afterwards. His eyes gleamed in the overcast sunlight, making them more apparent. This time is really no different than the others except for the fact that there was no tenderness in his voice.

"Because I like you," He stated. "You're not like the other devotchkas. You don't give in to me easily, when you do, you get out of it. You don't want to have the old in-out in-out with like me, at least not yet," He smirked.

She scoffed, "I would never do something so disgusting with you."

"There it is, little sister," He pointed out. When she tried to get out of his arms, he pushed her back. "You give me a challenge and I like it. You pull it off real horrorshow, you do. You pretend not to like me, but you do. I don't get it honestly, and I don't care." Alex came closer now and there was that softness in his voice again. "I want you. You're so fiesty, strong-willed, bold and completely," He kissed the base of her neck, "Completely unavoidable."

Linda melted at his words, but was aggravated by him at the same time. He was getting to her; she didn't like it. She admitted that he had surprised her somewhat. He was determined, persistent, handsome, charming, and intelligent. On the other hand, he was evil, arrogant, and conceited. She wanted nothing to do with him, yet he seemed to always cause her to lose her focus. Alex took this opportunity to bring her closer. She felt his lips continue to peck her neck; his hands go up and down her sides. Linda did not protest. Her hands stayed on his shoulders.

"Suppose I let you have me…"

"..Then I'd be the happiest boy in the world," He whispered in her ear. "You'd be mine and mine only. You'll be my little pet."

Normally, Linda would refuse to be somebody's 'pet'. It was degrading. However, her knew-deep inside-Alex would keep her. He was the type who liked to keep his things close to him, which was why he always carried that stupid stick with him. It had something inside it that meant something to him (she could tell from the small line between the handle and shaft of the stick. He hadn't closed it all the way). He would keep her next to him. He wouldn't want anyone else touching his thing…playing with his toy…his pet…

"Is the pretty bugatty devotchka giving in to me at last?" He asked, excited now. "Has she given up her 'type' eerga now?"

There was no snap. There was no refusal or denial. She leant back against the wall and surrendered herself to him. Perhaps if she did, the dreams and memories would stop. He understood; then began giving a trail up her neck, past her cheek and roughly landing on her lips. It was a mixture of passion and violent lust. His hands gripped tightly at her hips; her nails dug into his shoulders even though there was fabric between skin and finger. Her fingers ran into his hair and pulled roughly. One of his hands stayed on her hips while the other went into her hair. It tugged harshly, but she did not care.

"My pet…" He said, before kissing her again.

From now on, there would be no Linda. There would be no Alex. There would be just Linda and Alex.


	8. Home

"Don't you think this is a bit too soon, Linda? I mean, you haven't even gone on a date yet, but here you are saying you're together."

It was late afternoon the next day that Linda sat with Miranda at the café having a nice after school lunch. The café was a bit more crowded than usual, considering it was half-way through lunch and moving on into dinner. The two girls sat in the middle of the room, still in their uniforms and apparently having a serious discussion…on Miranda's end.

"I'm not saying its official, Miranda," Linda sat as she sipped her tea. "It's not like we've had sex or anything. We just kissed; that was all."

"Still…In public? Georgina said you two were going at it pretty-"

"-Oh who the hell is she to talk? She probably has more experience than a slut on the corner-"

"-Linda!" Miranda was not shocked, more like amused. "I know she shouldn't be judging, and I'm not judging you. I'm only telling you that it's a bit sudden. Usually, you go on the date, then start being all intimate," She took a spoonful of soup, "Not the other way around."

"Well, maybe I'm looking for a bit of change."

A change. Alex Delarge was a big change indeed. They had spent all of yesterday together, walking, talking, kissing and touching, until he walked her home. Gran had even caught a glimpse of him from the window. Now that she had gotten to know him so much better, Alex did not seem so bad. He was remarkably intelligent for a boy his age; into a lot of the things she was and constantly asked her questions about herself rather than just talk about himself.

'_You'll know them as they come on' _He answered when she asked him about himself.

Alex was someone she could not figure out. He was unpredictable and fickle. Impulsive and mysterious. He seemed to live life recklessly and loved it. Linda wished she could have been so carefree.

"He's not like the others," She said, changing direction of the topic.

"In what way?"

"I'm not sure. There's something about him that I can't put my finger on. He has this…this air about him that's different."

It was true. Alex really turned the gears in her mind. He made her tick. He knew how to get to her bad side, and then flip her around 'till she was on her good side. Alex pushed buttons because he thought it was fun. He pushed _her_ buttons. The other boys always tried to stay on her good side because then they might get inside her panties. There was no mystery with them. They were always so simple; easy to understand. Alex was not. He was complex and merely unconcerned about whether he was on her good side or not. He liked being on both ends of the table apparently.

"Hm," Miranda said simply, "He does seem nice."

"He is…"

Linda idly sipped her drink again, and then said, "Besides, he's coming by my place tonight. He said he wanted to take me out; meet his friends and see how we get on, you know, basic stuff."

"Well, if you had stuck around when we went there instead of storming out, there would be no need," Miranda said.

"I would have to hang around them either way, Miranda," Linda told her. "They're his friends."

Honestly, Linda was not sure whether Alex even considered them his "friends". They had appeared to be more like cronies than real companions. He was their ring leader; their master and commander.

"True…" Miranda put down her spoon, "Want to go shop then? Don't have to be home any time soon."

"Alright. I have to find something pretty to wear anyways…"

Miranda said nothing more about Linda rushing into things with Alex, and they went on to the clothing shops to buy whatever it was their hearts desired.

Linda was standing impatiently in the elevator of her building that night, tapping her black booted heel on the marble floor. The dress she wore was skin tight and made of lacy white fabric with a black silk bow wrapped around the middle. Her eyes stared up at the floor numbers as the light counted its way down to the bottom floor. It was not because she was seeing Alex tonight; that he would be standing on the opposite side of the door, waiting for her with his bowler hat and walking stick. Her nerves were caused by what would happen. What plans did he have in store for them tonight? He was definitely not that 'wine-and-dine' type or the 'stroll-around-the-park-at-night' kind of boy either. No, those were day activities. His nights were much more…exciting.

"Linnie-Lin," She heard a delight voice said when she came out of the elevator and into the empty lobby. Alex was leant up against the opposite wall with Georgie, Dim and Pete beside him. They all leered at her when she stopped in front of her. She felt very uncomfortable. "You look lovely," Alex said with a grin, "Doesn't she, boys?"

"Very pretty," Dim nodded, fixing his hat. "I like her already."

"Now, I want you malchicks to pony something. This odin's mine. Don't touch her unless ya want to have ya yarbles shoved down your gorlo. Get my meaning?" His voice was commanding. This was an order, not a request or statement.

They all nodded without speaking. The seriousness in Alex's expression instantly vanished when he turned back to Linda. "Ready to go?"

The suddenness in everything put her off a bit, so it took Linda some time to answer. "Yes, I am."

He smirked with pleasure, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her out of the building with them behind him. Linda noticed how jubilant the boys were behaving. They cackled, made jokes, gave rude comments or gestures to cars passing by and simply having fun. She assumed they must have gone to the milk bar before coming to get her. There was nothing better to start off a night of fun than a nice glass of "milk plus".

Alex, however, was not so interested. His eyes were only set on Linda, who looked back at them. "What did you have planned for us tonight, Alex?" She asked him innocently.

That oh-so-memorable smirk came over his face again, "Nothing special, love. Don't you worry that pretty gulliver of yours over it."

She knew this answer did not bode well. Whatever it was that Alex had in mind could not be good. Regardless, she walked beside him, her heels clicking on the street; his warm body pressed on her side, and the laughter of the boys behind them both. It was a nice experience over all. She-for some odd reason-felt important next to him. She felt as though being on Alex's arm was something special. It was like he was some wealthy well-to-do business man showing off his trophy wife to a couple of friends. The entire world would soon know that Linda was Alex's. His exclusive pet. His most prized possession that no other hand may lay upon but his own.

"What baddiwad veshches are we ittying to be doing this nochy, bratty?" She heard Pete ask Alex.

"Nothing special. Just ittying to itty cluve in to someone's domy and be a dva of baddiwad malchicks. A visit," Alex answered casually. Pete might as well have been asking about the weather.

Linda felt her stomach twist. "What kind of things?"

"As I said before, don't worry, dear sister. You're in good hands, isn't she boys?"

"Very good hands," Georgie replied.

"See? Nothing to worry about, darling," He briefly kissed her cheek in a reassuring way. "Leave everything to your dear Alex and it will all be well."

Linda knew better than to trust Alex, but something told her not to go against him either. She walked with them until they reached a long tunnel that went underneath the high way. In the distance, she could hear signing. The words were slurred, and there were occasional burps and hiccups in between. Linda looked to see an old homeless man lying flat on his back. A bottle was in his hand; his head was tossing were faintly from side to side. He was obviously drunk. She glanced over to Alex. The devious expression on his handsome face was ever so clear. It scared her.

"Perhaps we should go the other way," Linda said, hoping to prevent the damage before it could happen. "A shortcut."

"Why would we do that?" Alex asked her, brushing hair from her face. "The fun's just about to start…Stay."

She saw the boys walk towards the man and encircle him. She watched them all move around him as a pack of wolves would towards their prey. They clapped and cheered when the man finished his song in mock delight. The drunkard's words were echoed; not very easy for her to make out. Her stomach knotted while the boys stood over the man. She had seen things like this before; she hoped in vain that they will walk away from him. A gasp escaped her lips when the end of Alex's stick met the drunkard's stomach.

"-Go ahead!" She heard the drunkard yell out, "Do me in! It's a stinkin' world anyways!"

"Oh?" Alex's voice said, full of wickedness, "And what's so stinkin' about it?"

She shut her eyes for a moment when she heard the man reply and the sudden cries of pain and enjoyment fill the empty tunnel afterwards. They opened to reveal them all beating the drunkard in a circle: Alex's stick rising and falling on him; Pete and Georgie's legs kicking him, while Dim's chain whipped him. Linda rushed to Alex's side, fear in her eyes.

"Alex!" She called him. Hopefully, this pang of inspiration would work. "Leave the poor man alone. He hasn't done you any wrong," She pleaded.

He pushed her off him, giving her a look that clearly read 'stay-out-of-this'. Linda would not. "Leave him alone!" When she touched him again, the shove was rougher and she landed on the concrete beneath them.

Once the man was unconscious, Alex looked around to her. For a moment, she was worried he would do the same to her: Beat her for her interruption. However, he merely lent her his hand to pull her upward. As she was dusting bits of dirt off the back of her dress, Linda looked at him. There was no fear in her eyes. Only anger.

"Don't ever push me again," She said to him with a bit of resentment in her tone.

"Oh? And what would you do if I did?" He pushed her shoulder gently. The other boys smirked, anticipating another beating.

"Push you back," And she did.

For a moment, Alex was stunned. It quickly dissolved, and he shoved her with a little more force with his fingers; she did it back on his chest. When the strength of the movement made him stumble backward, the displeasure was written on his face. The other boys made to move in on her, but he raised a hand to stop them. Then, he used that same hand to slap across her face. The sting of the hit was still on her cheek as she brought her own hand to his with the intent of returning the feeling. When her fist had met its target, he put a blow to her face a second time.

It was a punch this time that might have drawn blood for the taste of lead was in her mouth. With her head turned away, he said in her ear, voice full of malice, "Do that again, love, and you'll end up like the drunkie…Are we clear, my little pet?"

He predicted a weak 'yes, Alex. I'll do what you say," but instead received a grunt and another hit. Holding his cheek, Alex grabbed his cane and smacked her side. Ignoring the pain, she grabbed the stick from him. The blow of the cane to his shin made him howl somewhat. Any minute, he could send his lackeys to finish her off for him. Yet, he did not. He stood up straight, shrugging off his soreness, and spitting blood.

"You're a strange girl, you know that?"

Alex came close to her, wrapped her arm in his and kissed her. The taste of blood mixed between them. It was nothing she had ever experienced before: A boy hitting her, but then acting as if nothing had ever occurred. The group continued to walk down the rest of the way. It was all really confusing: She should be enraged, upset, crying even at the abuse she had just endured. She was not. There were no tears on Linda's face. She raised a hand to wipe some blood from her lip, but a sudden flicker of white came before her.

A crisp, white handkerchief came in front of her. Her eyes went back over to Alex, who gave an encouraging closed-lip smile. She carefully took the handkerchief; then proceeded to wipe her mouth with it.

"That's better," Alex said, sounding almost pleased. He didn't like having his things dirty.

It was a while before they came across a hot red Durango on the street. Seeing the expression Alex gave, her stomach knotted. Linda had gotten over the mugging, but stealing a car? She would not.

"How about we go make that ol' surprise visit, my brothers? A little bit of the ol' ultraviolence before the night's out?"

The all agreed. As they jeered and hopped into the car, Linda looked at Alex. "Something wrong, Linnie-Lin?" She knew he was not really concerned, more intrigued.

"I'm not doing this, Alex. This is…wrong," She told him.

"Oh yes you are, my pet, because I am. Whatever the master does, the pet must follow, right right?" He smirked.

"No no," She scorned him. "You can't just go around stealing cars and hurting people. It's-"

"Mauvais? Mais nous l'avons fait quand même. Personne ne nous a arrêtés. Qui a dit que c'est mal de voler une voiture? de frapper quelqu'un? o faire ce que nous sacrément bien s'il vous plaît?"He asked, hands in pockets now.

( _*"-Wrong? But we did it anyway. Nobody stopped us. Who says it's wrong to steal a car? to do as we damn well please?")_

She knew he was speaking in French so the boys would not be able to understand him. Linda had no real retort for this comment. So, he came closer to her, whispering now:

"Stop peulrnicher et monter dans la voiture."

_(* "Stop whining and come with me".)_

Linda did not complain. She did not say a word. He opened the passenger door for her; she climbed in without question. The small break in her cheek could be felt with the side of her tongue, and she began to realize Alex was used to be the dominating one. He liked making all the decisions; he liked having control and power. He felt he deserved that feeling, because he was so much smarter than everyone else. Running a hand through her hair, she casted her eyes over to him as he slipped into the driver's seat and started the car.

The engine roared, sending small vibrations all throughout the hunk of metal, which went straight up into Linda's insides. Soon, they were speeding down the street, the wind flowing in through her hair; the sounds of the boys calls and cheers and her heart accelerating somewhat. The Durango moved like a bullet through the streets; the shops became blurry as they flew by them; the wind became harsher. Her hair went into a wild frenzy behind her, leaving a trail of a sweet smelling scent.

These winds also brought up the hems of her dress, brushing it over her pale thighs and bringing it up over her lap. Linda pulled it back down with a quick movement, but a hand stopped her. Alex no longer had his eyes on the road, but on Linda. He smirked as he pushed her hand aside and watched the frill fabric go back over it. There was a lustful want in his eyes. She gasped when it clasped over the inner part of her thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. He went between her legs. Alex stared ahead once more, the quiet city streets fading into silent woods.

The Durango sped up the dark road. They played hogs of the road with the other travelers of the night, not caring who nearly crashed against the tall, strong trees or what damage they might leave in their wake. Alex cared for nothing.

Linda gazed into the blackness, before closing her eyes. She enjoyed the feeling of the air rushing over her skin; the vibrations of the car rumbling inside her, and the hard touch of Alex's hand. When the sensation fled; Alex's hand went back onto the steering wheel, Linda opened her eyes. She saw a small, illuminated sign that said: "Home". Her stomach knotted a second time that night. The cottage was quaint, with a lovely garden and stone borders. She hoped to God that Alex would deem this place as unsuitable for his "ultraviolence" and move onward. This did not happen. Alex brought the car to an immediate halt in front of the small iron kissing gate. Linda turned her head to him again. The malicious, eager air on his face said it all.

"Alex-"

"-Quiet," He hissed, jumping out of the car with the rest of the boys.

"-But Alex, this is-"

"-You can either stay in here or come inside with us," Alex said firmly. "I'm starting to grow annoyed with all this 'this is wrong' nonsense."

He kissed her lips again, and then crept up the pathway. She watched him go to the door. Linda would not go into the house. She knew exactly what Alex and his droogs were up to. Once the people of that cottage would open the door, all havoc would ensue. Linda wanted to go home now. She did not want to witness nor take part in all the nastiness Alex wreaked on others. Clapping hands over ears, she tried to tune out the cries of a woman from inside; the smashing of glass and the familiar lyrics of "Singing in the Rain".


	9. Eternity

The events of their date replayed in her mind like a film on a large screen. As Alex, they would not leave her head. Hearing that woman's muffled screams; the crashing of fine china or priceless items; the ruthlessness of Alex and his droogs, caused her stomach to twist

She had never heard of something so terrible before. The break in was reported in the newspaper the next morning. Daddy commented on the audacity of today's youth and how he was glad Linda never behaved in such a manner; Mummy shook her head while she told them of the teenagers who walk into the police station, and Gran said that the government should focus more on the city instead of the people in the jails. Linda stayed quiet through this. She was afraid speaking might give the game away.

She told Miranda they had simply gone out for dinner then a walk around the park. She said that his friends stayed for a bit, but left once they became more "lovey-dovey". The story was believable enough. She would have to remember the details if she saw Judy or Georgina.

It was like they were attached at the hip: Linda was at Alex's side every waking moment. She was constantly underneath his watch, like a lion protecting its cub. It was not irritating; annoying or uncomfortable. The feeling was…nice. He would wait by the school gate, even when he didn't go; take her to lunch; walk with her around the streets…all the while, having their arms linked. There were very few moments that Alex was not with her. He had also met her parents.

They adored him. Mummy constantly told her how lucky she was to have met a boy so intelligent, polite and good-looking. Daddy said he was a fine, ambitious young lad; Moyra found him funny, while Gran found him absolutely charming. They were so wuikc to believe every lie that went past his lips. If only they knew the real him, and not the adoring youth they thought to be a loving boyfriend.

She loved being with someone, despite the person being a complete villain. She could never look at him without thinking of all the terrible things he had done. She hated to imagine him taking advantage of a defenseless woman, and then allowing his friends to follow. The thought only made his impiety more authentic.

Alex seemed not to notice or care. Her feelings towards his behavior did not affect him. She could never change him. She could not imagine anyone being capable. Nevertheless, Linda stayed with him. Not because of her parents, friends or society in itself. She stayed because he made her feel…not herself. Those nights they spent together: stealing cars, mugging people, and generally being bad created a new side of Linda that had been left untouched. Now, she was not as terrible as Alex, but she did an occasional misdeed. She had helped him steal a car they had found in the street or looted nice shiny things from people he and his droogs had took the trouble of hurting. The feeling was exhilarating. The thought that they could be caught any moment; the sneakiness, and being in control for once made the deed fun.

Over the course of a few weeks, Linda really was Alex's pet. She followed him everywhere; did whatever he said and never strayed away. She did everything in her power to please him, like playing his silly sexual games such as "Pred and Prey" or "Damsel and Villain". Alex was not the most caring, affectionate boyfriend in the world, but he was decent. He protected her, not because he loved her, but because she was his pet; his play thing. No one ever touches Alex's things. She saw this one night when she had been strolling down the street to the Korova milk bar:

_It was a quiet night. Most people were in the shelter of their homes, either too afraid to poke their heads outside or too tired to care. She had managed to leave the house after Gran had told her that she could care for Moyra alone. Her long hair in curls and tied back in pins, her black heeled boots tapped the concrete as she walked along the block. The Korova was not too far away from her now; around the corner. She wondered what nastiness Alex had in store tonight. If he felt right, Alex might decide to keep it only him and he; send his droogs away for the night. He sometimes did those things. _

"_Hey there lovely," A malicious voice said behind her as she passed a side street entrance. _

_Turning around, she saw a wild-haired, fat, oily boy dressed in a large jacket. He was chewing bubble gum and holding a pocket knife in his hand. Linda was not very afraid of him. She had her own toy. A small razor Alex had given her as a present was tucked away into her boot. Nevertheless, she'd play innocent. She stepped away from him, a look of convincing fear etched on her face. _

"_Stay away from me," She said. "I 'm warning you…"_

"_Oh?" He said, mockingly. _

_Out of the darkness came a group of other boys, who immediately took her and tried to drag her off into the alley that lead towards an old abandoned cinema. She screamed, kicked, punched; actually hitting one across his greasy face. Their grubby hands caressed her skin roughly; their wet lips left saliva on her body and their grunts of hungry lust made her stomach sick. They began tearing at the dress she had bought that afternoon the moment they hit the stage, her slashing at them with her long-nailed fingers and kicking them with her hard, shiny boots. Her half naked body was now exposed to the winter cold; goosebumps were going up and down her, and she shivered slightly. Linda did not really care. _

_She had managed to break free of the group for one moment, as they pulled her closer to a filthy mattress of the floor with the noises of the struggle being echoed, and reached down quickly to her boot. Out came a single bladed knife: The hilt of it was wooden mainly, with pretty rhinestones bordering the edges with a fake diamond ball on the end. Like an artist with paint, she made a swift motion and blood spilt from the wild-haired boy's cheek. Before he could make a move to throw her on the mattress, a voice rung out. _

"_Well if it isn't billy goat Billyboy and his droogs, planning to have the ol' in out in out on my cheena?" _

_She kicked the leader–Billyboy- away; then slipped away from the distracted group and behind Alex. To see a real good show, she said, in a voice of fear and worry:_

"_Oh Alex!" She said, "They were going to do terrible things to me! Nasty things! They ripped my dress and messed up my hair that I did so nicely for you! I was so scared! Save me!"_

_He turned around with a knowing smirk. Alex said nothing to her then, but she knew he would later. This was obviously not serious. She merely played along with Alex. He liked it playing their games. The act made his love of ultraviolence so enjoyable and real. She would admit: She loved it too. _

"_Have no worry, love," Alex said, not looking at her but at Billyboy, "Uncle Alex will take real good care of Billy boy, real horrorshow. Nobody has the old in-out in-out with like my devotchka but me, especially not globby bottles of cheap stinking chip oil such as thou!" _

_Linda moved back as the droogs and Alex ran and clashed with Billyboy's gang. She watched in excitement as the boys all hit each other, like animals fighting over territory. Holding both torn sides of her dress closed, her eyes stayed on Alex. He was a lot stronger than he looked. He kicked Billyboy square in the chest with both feet; lifted a boy over his head as the other had jumped at him; smashed some with broken chairs or put them through windows. A giggle came out of her. _

_The sound of blaring sirens in the distance stopped the fighting at once. Billyboy and his gang began to run away, one boy nearly bleeding to death, and left the group there. Alex whistled for attention, and then yelled: "The Police! Come on let's go!"_

_Linda ran with them, following Alex obediently. The moment they were behind a building where they could not be seen, he looked at Linda. He was not examining her as a lover would to his other half, but an owner grooming his pet. He turned her head side to side, slicked her hair back behind her shoulders, and stared down at her torn clothes. When he was done, he smirked. _

"_I would have ripped them anyways."_

Strangely, that was what made her like him. Sick and twisted to the point many people might not understand, but she did. He kept her out of harm's way without really meaning to do so. He did it more for his pleasure of hurting others than for her safety. This did not bother her at all.

It was a month or two into their relationship that things did alter. They would alter everything…

"And why canst my pet spend raz with like me this nochy?"

His eyes gazed down at her when they stood outside her apartment building a few afternoonsafter the incident with Billyboy. She felt incredibly apologetic, since Alex-though never admitting it to himself- took pleasure in her company. She was special to him. He needed her close. Placing her hands on those broad shoulders of his, she looked back into the clear blue eyes.

"My Gran needs me at home tonight. She's ill and someone has to watch over Moyra," She answered, sounding sorry. "I would love nothing more than to be with you, you know that."

"Then ookadeet the malenky devotchka at home and come out with like me," He grinned, pushing hair from her face like always.

"She's six," Linda retorted. "I can't leave her alone. She'll burn the whole building down."

He said nothing at this. She never told anyone but she could have sworn she spotted a bit of disappointment in his eyes. She was sure it was because now he would have to have 'the old in out, in out' with someone else who wasn't willing. Alex did like raping women, but he found the act a bit tiring at times. He once told her that he wished they would just shut it and open up.

'_The struggling is a bit annoying' _He told her. _'I like it when you struggle though.' _

Alex seemed to like how she did everything. It was weird coming from someone who cared for nobody but himself; a boy who manipulated and lied for personal gain; a boy who did what he wanted with no worry over the consequences. She was sure he did not care much for her either. She was…disposable in his eyes. She would never admit that it…hurt.

"Fine. Tomorrow night then," He pecked her lips, "Be dobby for your darling Alex."

She smiled when she watched him walk away. Linda sort of liked it when he gave her orders. She had grown to let him be in control, because he was used to the position. Especially when they were…intimate (for lack of a more describable word for the rough, clawing, smacking and biting sex they had at night after having a bit of the good ol' ultraviolence). Linda turned around and went into the building, ready for a night of "fun" with her little sister.

In spite of being dreadfully tired of watching cartoons with Moyra, the night went by smoothly. If Linda was lucky, Mummy would come back early and Linda can go find Alex at the milk bar, where he would most likely be at the late hour. She never believed she would ever want to see him so badly. Perhaps because she had grown addicted to the feelings he caused her; maybe she loved being beside him or listening to him talk in his strange language.

She…missed Alex. She was sure he was out doing something seriously naughty. He was out there right now causing harm unto others and gang raping women. If it were possible, maybe he'll come by when it's over to see her. He had been upset his little pet would not be tagging along with him tonight

Thankfully, Daddy came home before Mummy, but it was too late for Linda to go out. She did not go through the trouble of asking. Running a hand through her hair as she sat back on the armchair Gran normally occupied, Linda rested her head and shut her eyes. Images of Alex filled her day dreams. When the phone rang, she grunted.

"Linda, could you get that?" She heard Daddy call out from the kitchen.

The blond went over to the living room phone, and put it to her ear. "Van Patten residence…"

"Linnie-Lin," Alex's voice came from the other side. His voice sounded…scared…worried...Her heart skipped a beat.

"Alex? What's wrong?"

"The police caught me when I was at this old hag's house," He answered. "They got me locked up here in the station, asking me stupid questions about what went on."

"What did you do?" She noticed that he was not using slang words. He was speaking straight and narrow. It made her more concerned.

"What do you think I did?"

She did not reply. "But, can't help you?" She had previously met the man who was in charge of looking out for Alex and keeping him from doing anything wrong: Constantly checking on him (whether Linda was there or not), making sure he stays out of trouble, and all those other things. "Isn't it his job to help you?"

"Not anymore…Linnie…I think I'm going to jail. The old hag died."

Linda nearly dropped the phone. "Jail? On what charge? For how long?"

"Accidental murder, fourteen years in the prisons this time. You see, there was this-"

"I don't want to know," She cut across him, "I just want you to come back. How are you even able to call me?"

"I asked them if I could. I really-" He stopped talking, and then she heard his voice say, "Bye Linnie."

"But Alex-"

He had hung up. Slowly, Linda put down the phone. Her eyes began to sting and well up.

"Linda?" Moyra's innocent voice spoke to her, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Linda stood up at once and stormed to her room. Flinging down on her bed, she began sobbing quietly. Her heart was slowly ripping into two separate pieces. Alex and her had not been together long enough for her to care so much that he was going to the place where people like him belonged, so why did she? Why was she faced down on her bed crying into her pillow? Why was the image of her never hearing his voice or walking down the street beside him hurt so much? He was terrible person. If he had attacked an innocent old lady, then he deserved to be in prison.

But, she did not want him there. Alex had been special; unlike any other boy she had ever been close with. It had been too early to say she _loved_ Alex. Love takes a long time to grow. Yet, she was here crying. She was crying over the fact that those blue eyes will never look down on her. Fourteen years might as well have been an eternity.


	10. Musical Dreams

The news that Alex had been arrested and sent to prison was talked about all through breakfast the next day. Mummy had seen him be dragged in by the policeman when she was at her desk; Daddy said it was a shame how wonderful people fall so quickly, and Gran claimed she had always known (Linda knew she hadn't had a clue). They badgered Linda about what they really did whenever they went out at night. She told them that she had been honest when she said they went to dinner or spent the night at his place.

Miranda, Judy and Georgina had questioned her at school, she said that she had had no idea how nasty Alex had been.

Thankfully, everyone bought it

No one really seemed to care how _Linda_ was taking the arrest. Not once was the 'Are you okay?' or 'How are you feeling?' included in all the streams of questions people threw at her. They were so concerned or surprised about the news. Their shock was much more important than Linda's heartache. They did not bother to ask if she was either okay with Alex gone or if her heart was slowly tearing into pieces with each passing day. No. No one. It was all about _them_.

Linda wished that Alex would write to her while he was in prison. The notion would have been comforting. She checked the mailbox every day when she came home from school. She would expect to see his perfect penmanship scrawled across the page, giving her words of love or ease. There was nothing there but bills and magazines her mother or Gran had subscribed to. Eventually, she gave up on the idea. Maybe he really hadn't cared. Maybe he was not even thinking of her anymore. It made her cry at night in her bedroom.

After a week or so of Alex gone, Linda had discovered the only way to remove him from her thoughts was playing on her piano in the living room. The music would flow through her as she concentrated on the keys. Their heavenly tunes would bring a small smile to her face; they would take away every memory or thought she had ever had of Alex: such as her playing for a large audience of people. They would all watch her intently as she worked over the instrument; her eyes focused and in the moment, and then give a standing ovation at the end. She loved it. She did it every day.

Those nights in her bed, the feat of trying to forget Alex was impossible. The boy plagued her dreams. No matter what was going on or if anything was happening at all, she would always wake up and remember a gleam of blue or a glimpse of a smirk. He had done something to her. He had left an imprint on her that she could not shake. The feeling made her weak; she did not think she would ever be strong enough to move on without him.

"You should really get out of the house, darling," Daddy told her one night over dinner. "It's not right for a girl your age to be sitting at home on a piano at all hours of the day and night."

"I don't really want to go out anymore, Daddy," Linda told him as she stood up from the table to wash her plate.

"Linda," Mummy said in a reasonable tone, "It's been almost a month. You need to move on with your life, sweetheart."

"I said I don't want to go out."

They ceased their encouragement, but Gran spoke next. "I remember when your grandfather went away to war. I cried for months. The thought of him not next to me every minute of the day, never hearing his voice or seeing him walk through the door broke my heart. I didn't believe I would ever live or love again."

The way she had said those words stung Linda's eyes. She went on: "My parents told me I should get out of the house too. They said going out with a few friends would make me feel better-"

"-I'm going to play before I go to bed," She cut in.

Linda walked out of the dining room and into the next room across the hall. She knew none of them would try to reason with her anymore, since she had clearly shown dislike to their efforts. She did not want to leave the house; she did not want to travel on into the night (or day) and think of how she and Alex had spent them together. They simply did not understand. She did not think anyone would. No, this was not one of those typical adolescent "nobody-understands-me" things. This situation; this predicament was something she was sure not many people experienced.

Missing and loving a boy who did not return it nor of a boy who was so selfish. The concept sounded so sick. Sitting on the piano bench, she overturned the Chopin music sheet, placed her delicate fingers on the keys and began to play. Immediately, she sunk into her own world. There was nothing around her except the music. Linda imagined the great Chopin himself in her place, with a large orchestra behind him. People would watch him play, amazed by his supreme talent. They would clap and cheer at his brilliance; they would go home speaking of the wonderful masterpiece the man had created.

The music she was playing.

"Linda?" A small voice broke into her delightful world.

Reluctantly, Linda stopped playing and looked over her shoulder. Moyra stood in the doorway of the living room in her pink nightdress with her hair tied back. The image was filled with innocence. Her face expressed pure curiosity and caution. She came further towards her, and then stopped again.

"Mummy says it's time for bed."

"Alright," Linda replied, turning back to the piano, "In a moment."

"She says that a bath's already been drawn for you," She added, "And that you should go before the water gets cold."

"Alright, Moyra."

"You really should. I don't like taking cold baths. They make you sick."

"Okay, Moyra," Linda said, her irritation rising.

"Why are you playing now, Linda?"

"Can you please go to bed, Moyra?" She snapped. "Gran's waiting for you."

"Okay," Moyra said, a bit disconcerted, "Goodnight."

Linda immediately felt guilty. She should not take her anger out on her little sister. She swung her legs over the bench to apologize, but the child had already gone. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. What was wrong with her?

Everything.

She stood up from the bench and went to take that bath. Perhaps the rest would relax her mind; make her forget everything. She liked to think that she would wake up one day and all that had happened with Alex had been a dream…one big, twisted dream…Then she'd open her eyes; it was all real.

Linda bathed like her parents had wanted.

Linda got dressed in her room like they had wanted.

Linda slipped in between the sheets of her bed, sighing and holding the urge to cry like they had wanted.

Yet, looking up towards the ceiling above, his face was all she pictured.

The shadowy figure was sitting in the tree watching with a grin…

"_Ladies and gentlemen" A portly man in a tuxedo addressed a large crowd in a dark music hall, "I present the magnificent musical styling's of Linda Elizabeth Van Patten…"_

_The red curtains opened. She was sitting underneath a hot spotlight; eyes focused on the piano keys. Only, these keys were not white and black like most. They were a clear, bright blue. They seemed to have a familiar sense about them. The black keys were shaped like eyes instead of short, slender notes. She darted her head to the crowd. _

_They were all the typical people she dreamed of at her piano; only there was something different. Their faces were blurred; they seemed contorted in some places with overly large grins, bug-like eyes or very long noses. They all sat there expectantly. Her eyes moved over them. They all had the same familiarity as the blue piano. She could make out faces of her friends and family; people she had seen in the street…_

_And him. Alex sat in the very middle. He was the only person whose face was not distorted. It was perfect with his smirk more devilish than ever. It scared her but fascinated her at the same time. She blinked. He was gone. _

"_Play for us," She looked to her side to find him beside her. "Play for me, Linnie-Lin."_

_His voice sounded different. It was not the taunting, arrogant tone she recalled, but soft and soothing. The look in his eyes was loving and wanting, not lust or seduction. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered again:_

"_Play for me," His hand caressed hers, and placed it over the piano keys. _

_Her fingers began moving on their own. She was unable to control them. Alex let go of her hand and watched with pleasure as she did as he said. Linda wanted to stop; her fingers were moving too fast; they began to ache and cramp, but she kept playing. She couldn't stop. She cried out as the pain became more unbearable. _

"_Alex," She turned to him, "Help me."_

_Alex said nothing, but faded away. The crowd began to fade with him; the only thing left in the room was the burning spotlight and her uncontrollable hands. _

Linda jolted upright in her bed. Her body was flushed in a cold sweat and her heart was pounding on her chest. She was slightly dazed for a moment as she gazed around her room. She supposed the dreams had not stopped at all.


	11. Blue Stones

It was the next day that Miranda came to visit her. Linda had walked straight home after school, not saying a word to anyone about it. She wanted to be left alone. She did not want anyone bringing Alex up or mentioning him. Miranda was just the person to do that. So, reluctantly, Linda opened the door for her when she heard the bell chime throughout the house.

"I haven't seen you in weeks," Miranda told her as they entered the living room. Linda walked over to her piano, but did not play. "What have you been doing hold up in all this time?

"Sitting here. Playing."

Miranda sat beside her. The red haired girl now had a concerned expression on her face. Linda knew she was only worried about her. Any friend would be with the way Linda had been avoiding everyone and barely speaking at school. They all thought she would have gotten over it by now, since she and Alex had only been together for a month, but it was difficult to forget a boy so…different.

"Linda," She said, "I know you're upset over this whole Alex-thing, but you have to move on, love. You can't spend the rest of your life waiting for him. I mean, honestly, after hearing about what he did do you still want him? Do you really want to be with someone who murders other people for fun?-

"-He hadn't meant for it to happen-"

"-Well break into an old woman's house and assault her then. What if he had done that to you? Would you want to be with him then-"

"He would never have done that to me," Linda retorted. "He never would have seriously hurt me that way."

This was half true. Alex was certainly capable of hurting her in the exact same fashion he had with that poor woman, but he never did. She liked to believe it was because he had reserved some kind of feeling for her that stopped him from critically harming her. Alex and her had exchanged a few slaps or punches to the face, but nothing that would hospitalize them.

Miranda sighed, "Well, fourteen years is a long time. What are you planning to do? Save yourself until he comes back? I mean, I know you're capable of doing something like that, but this is ridiculous. Alex is only one boy. He can't mean so much to you."

She sighed. She was not going to go with the whole 'you-don't-understand' excuse because it was so childish. Linda was not sure how to explain it herself, let alone to another person; a person who had a sensible head…unlike her. Idly tapping on the keys, she did not know what to say.

"Come out with us tonight," Miranda said. "Dinner and a movie."

"No M&D?" She asked.

"No. We all-that is to say, Elsie, Judy and I-don't really feel like partying tonight. So, we decided on something simple, and I would like it if you came. Going out isn't the same without you."

To please her friend-and everyone else-Linda agreed to go. Miranda beamed, and they began to discuss all the gossip Linda "had been missing out on". Throughout the entire conversation, she only focused her head on one thing. What if Alex never came back? What if he died in prison or was given a longer sentence by some other means? It was true, she could not wait forever. There would be a time where she would have to move on. She played her piano as she spoke with Miranda. She tried not to remember the odd dream she had had the previous night, yet it was proved impossible. Linda remembered how perfect his face had been; how his eyes gleamed brighter than anything. Her heart sunk at the thought of never seeing those eyes again.

"I'll come get you around eight," Miranda said, once the red-head was on her way out.

When Linda merely nodded, she hugged her. The embrace was soft and comforting, but it did nothing to sooth her. She watched Miranda walk down the hall until she disappeared into the lift. Then she shut the door, and went back to her work.

Later that day, as day rolled into night, Linda stood outside the steps of her building. She wore a pale pink frilly skintight dress that hung mid-thigh, with white boots that reached her knees. A short sleeved cardigan made of white frills draped over her shoulders and down. Her hair? Tied up. Linda put no real effort into her outfit tonight. She simply picked out the first things in her closet and threw them on. She hadn't wanted to go out to begin with. Leaning against the railing, the blonde waited.

That was when they came around: Georgie, Pete and Dim. Linda glared at them, crossing her arms. They had been the reason Alex had been caught. She knew they had left Alex there, blinded by milk as they ran away. She always had the feeling one day they would grow tired of Alex being the leader and try to knock him down a few notches. Those notches landed him in prison. She half hoped they would walk on as if they had not seen her, but sadly, Dim had been the first one to stop.

"Evenin' Linda," Dim said.

"Hello boys," Linda replied, not really looking at them.

"Have you heard about Alex?" Georgie asked, a shadow of a smirk on his face. "They say he's locked up."

"Yes, I had heard about it. He called me…"

"We're sorry about it, Linda," Dim said before Georgie could speak again. "He was right mean to us, he was. Maybe…Maybe bein' in jail would make him…"

"Charlie," Linda called him by his real name. She thought calling him 'Dim' was mean, especially since he was actually kind of…sweet…when he wanted to be, "Jail is going to nothing except make him worse. And when my Alex comes back, you're all going to be very, very, very sorry…"

Dim stayed silent, but Pete spoke up: "He's gonna be away for a long time. We'll be old by the time we see his face again."

Linda didn't respond to this. Dim spoke up again, pulling something from his pocket, "I…I got ya somefin' Linda…"

She turned to him to see a beautiful blue-stoned bracelet hanging from his fingers. Linda drew closer to him, taking the bracelet in her hands. It was beautiful. The kind of thing Alex would have given her. Her demeanor seemed to soften as she stared up at Dim. She gave him an amused smile.

"Who did you steal this from, Charlie?"

"An ol' hag who lives down there," He pointed down the street. "I…I thought you'd like it. You like pretty things…because you're pretty."

She gave him a smile, putting the bracelet on, "Thank you, Charlie. It's lovely."

He gave a goofy grin before Georgie pulled him away. "Alright, nuff of this lovey dovey stuff. We be leaving now."

Pete and Dim were the only ones who waved goodbye; Dim taking glances over his shoulder. For some odd reason, Linda's spirit went up slightly. Not because of Dim and his gift, but because the small pretense that this had been another present from Alex and that Dim played carrier rather than giver. Her fingers felt over the soft, clear blue stones. She would never take it off. The bracelet felt more like a reminder of Alex…because they were the color of his eyes…

Her evening with the girls had turned out to be a bit better than she had expected. They had run into a group of boys at a bar they went to after the movie. They were the upper-class types who had fancy cars and rich fathers. The boys bought them drinks; flirted with them and even walked them to the car which was a little bit away from the pub. One of them-a tall handsome brown-haired boy-took an interest in Linda. However, she only spoke to him. She would not lead anyone on tonight. She did not want anyone else. She wanted Alex.

Linda was driven home by Elsie, who said she'll meet her tomorrow afternoon at The Cove for some lunch. Walking up to her apartment, it was when she walked in that she heard Gran's voice.

"You're home early," The old woman said from her rocking chair near the window.

"Yes," Linda said, "We only went to the movies. Nowhere special."

"Well, I'm glad you've come home. Otherwise, you would have to have read this tomorrow."

In her outstretched hand was a white envelope with a name scribbled on the side. Her heart beat somewhat when she thought of who the letter could be from. Alex? She thought he would never write. Carefully taking the letter, she opened it immediately. She recognized the bold, cursive writing Alex normally wrote in. She smiled brightly.

"Thanks Gran," She told her before heading off into her bedroom.

She shut the door behind her. Unfolding the letter as she sat down, Linda could hear his voice saying the words to her:

_Dear Linnie,_

_I know you're probably really ticked that I landed myself here. I would be shocked if you tossed this into the bin before reading. I've had you in mind for a long time, wondering and pondering. I miss you, Linnie. It isn't nice in here, because you're not here. _

_Signed,_

_Alex. _

Linda finished reading the letter and casted it on the bed beside her. After weeks of being there in that horrible place all he writes are a few sentences. She should have smiled at the sweet words he had written; her heart should be jumping for joy. Linda-for some odd reason-felt worse than before. Perhaps because she knew that she would never hear him actually say those words; that he would not hold her close and whisper in her ear what she had always wanted to hear. Was it because Alex would never actually say 'I love you'?

Most likely.


	12. The Guest

A few days had passed since the letter's arrival, which hung posted on the board above Linda's desk. Linda found herself sitting alone in her bedroom-for a change-staring up into its writing. His eyes scanned the letter, imaging his hands gripping the pencil and his eyes focused on the paper. His smooth voice would read and reread the letter over again. She wished he had phoned instead, instead of simply writing. However, she knew they wouldn't let him call her from prison. That was something she could not hope for.

"Linda?" A voice called her from her bedroom door. "Linda, could you come help me prepare lunch?"

"Why?" Her mother hand never needed help before.

"Because your grandmother is having a visitor and I would like to have something proper. Now, come on. You can't sit there brooding all day long. You can set up the platters if you want. Now!"

She heard muffled footsteps move away from her door, and Linda turned back to the letter. This would be the only other reminder she would ever have of him. The letter and the bracelet that lay wrapped around her wrist. She looked at it, touching over the stones and remembering his eyes. She missed him. She missed him dreadfully. She knew dreaming of seeing him again was a hopeless. She should move on.

She did not want to.

Walking into the living room, Gran sat in her rocking chair knitting; Moyra playing with dolls in front of the television while Mummy bustled around in the kitchen. Linda moved into it, seeing several platters of meats, cheeses and crackers as well as the smell of a baking cake. Mummy always outdid herself for guests. Linda found the habit a little annoying. Running a hand through her hair, she stopped in the doorway.

"Fix the platter. Put the cheese on the cracker first, then roll the meat and put the toothpick," Mummy directed.

"Yes, Mummy," Linda said and went to work.

The entire time she thought of Alex, going through the motions without thinking about it. Cracker, cheese, meet, toothpick. Cracker, cheese, meat, toothpick. Alex, letters, stones, missing. Alex, letters, stones, missing. She thought these words as she worked. She did not cry, but her lips faded into a frown.

"Linda…Linda…Linda!"

"What?"

"You're out of meat…Here," Mummy tossed her another package, but at the same moment the bell rang. "Nevermind, go answer the door."

Linda left the half-finished platter and went to the front door. Opening it, she found a muscular bespectacled man and another sitting in a wheelchair. The man in the wheelchair had pure white hair, but he had a ring of baldness on the top. With a kind smile, he spoke:

"Ah, you must be Linda. I'm Frank Alexander, a friend of your grandmothers'," He extended a hand to shake.

Linda shook his hand, "Nice to meet you too, sir. Gran's right in here."

She stepped aside to let the man in, his servant giving her a wide smile. "I'm Julian," She shook his hand as well. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Van Patten."

She smiled a little, "Please, call me Linda."

"Alright…Linda."

There was no blush, but a small smile. The two men went into the living room and Gran greeted Mr. Alexander with a hug. "So good to see you again, Frank."

"And you, Sylvia."

Linda left the two elders alone and went back into the kitchen to Mummy. Julian stood there with her, chit-chatting together. She said nothing as she came in, going back to working on her platter. The mood of talking to new people was something she did not have. She preferred to simply stay silent.

"So, what exactly is it you do for Frank?" Mummy asked him.

"A bodyguard for Frank," He answered. "After the incident with those hooligans breaking into his home and assaulting him and his wife, he felt he needed more protection. That is where I came in. He gives me decent pay; he's a good man. I do not have much to complain about."

"I was completely shocked when I found out from my mother what had happened. It's absolutely terrible; then Marissa dying on top of that. I feel so sorry for the poor man."

"So do I. He loved Marissa dearly; losing her nearly drove him mad. The doctor said it had been due to illness, but Frank thinks it's what happened to her that night that did it. I can't say I disagree. People can suffer from trauma at that kind of level."

"But to actually die from it is insane. Don't tell me that he is still living in the same place?"

"Yes, he is. I keep suggesting he move, but his heart is too attached to the cottage…I suppose it is alright, seeing as London is so far."

The package of crackers that had been in Linda's hand slipped out and onto the floor. A cottage in the outskirts…a woman dying from the effects of a rape…Mr. Alexander now in a chair and in need of a bodyguard…It could not be. There was not possible way that this was the same man Alex and the droogs had attacked that night…Linda supposed her face had gone completely white and into a stunned expression because Mummy called out to her in a concerned voice.

"Linda…Linda, sweetheart, are you alright?" She said, touching Linda's cheeks.

"I'm fine, Mummy," Linda finally said after a pause. "I think I need to lie down for a bit…"

"Yes of course, darling. I will take the platter."

Slowly, Linda walked into the living room and glanced at Mr. Alexander. He was immersed in conversation with Gran and Moyra that they had not seen her pass by. Now, she had not actually have been in the house when it happened. This could always just be a coincidence…right? Stepping into her room and closing the door, Linda went down onto her bed. She shut her eyes, regretting it seconds later.

The screams…the cries of pain and pleas for mercy echoed in her head. Alex's chorus of 'Singing in the Rain' mixed with malicious laughter. Linda clapped her hands over her ears as if she had returned to the seat in the Durango outside the little cottage that read: 'Home'. They would not really know that she had been there that night; they would not know that she had been outside hearing the assault happen and doing nothing. Her breaths became slow and shallow. She thought she would faint. Why was she so affected? Why should it matter?

Because Linda cared. Alex would not have shown any remorse for the man whom he had attacked. He would have acted his usual cool self; appearing kind and sociable. Her eyes fluttered open to see the blue stone bracelet in front of her. She thought of Alex in that moment. She imagined him telling her she was acting silly; his smooth voice being reassuring; telling her to act normal like he did. Linda idly touched the stones with her fingers. Her eyes went towards the letter on the board. The more she envisioned Alex, the more her worries seemed to slip away.

Eventually, her eyes shut, letting her drift into a deep sleep.

When she awoke a few hours later, she could still hear voices outside. She guessed Mr. Alexander and Julian were still in the house. Wonderful. Now, explanations are going to be needed. She climbed out of her bed towards her mirror. She fixed her hair, make-up and clothes before walking back into the living room. Everyone sat there: Gran in her rocking chair; Mummy in the chair beside Daddy who sat in his usual armchair; Moyra on the floor while Julia sat on the loveseat.

"Ah Linda," Gran grinned, "You're finally awake. How are you feeling, darling?"

"Fine. Better now," She answered.

"There's dinner in the oven for you, Linda," Mummy told her.

"Thank you, Mummy, but I'm not hungry right now." If she ate, she feared being sick.

Mummy and Daddy looked concerned, but it was Moyra who spoke: "Are you sick, Linda?"

"No, I'm fine."

"You don't look it."

"I'm fine, Moyra. Honestly."

"Okay."

"Come sit with us," Julian was the one to speak to her. The only available seat was beside him after all.

Timidly, Linda sat beside him, feeling his eyes on her. His stare was not unlike the ones she got occasionally. They showed an interest beyond simple curiosity. She felt uneasy. Running a hand through her hair, she ignored his gaze.

"So, Linda," Mr. Alexander spoke to her directly, "Your grandmother tells me you are an excellent musician."

"I would not say I am excellent," Linda said. "I am good, but never excellent."

"Oh Linda," Gran said with a pat on her knee, "You're being too modest. You sit here all day long playing. There is no way you cannot be excellent the way you have been practicing" Linda didn't practice because she wanted to be good. "Why don't you play something for Frank? I'm sure he would love to hear it."

"Of course."

When Linda looked at them all, Mummy and Daddy gave encouraging smiles…Moyra only played with her dolls. With all eyes on her, Linda moved to the piano and sat on the bench. Hands hovered over the smooth, white keys she played the piece in front of her. Immediately, Linda went into a different place. In her mind, there was nobody else there except a boy in Daddy's armchair. He would have a black cane over his lap with black-booted feet on the coffee table. His blue eyes would close as she played, her music bringing about whatever thoughts that came to his mind. She thought of how beautiful he would look sitting there. The dim light of the lamp would shine over his profile; the golden strands in his hair would shine somewhat, and his skin would be flawless. The notes brought back memories of them together without the droogs and alone. The piece brought back one particular memory. The one she loved the most.

_Despite having filthy water, the marina always looked nice during the day time. The benches that lined the side walls going along it would give one a view of the water meeting sky in the horizon. She supposed the place had been made since the sun set over this direction. The sight really was amazing: The salty sea air rushing through your hair and filling your lungs; the sound of seagulls cawing above. There were no boats here, but once in a while one would pass. _

_Linda normally came here when she wanted to escape the craziness in her life, which was a lot lately. Blue-greens stared out into the ocean, taking in the picture of it all. There was something so relaxing about sitting on a bench in the quietness with only your thoughts swimming through your mind. Linda never could explain it properly herself. She drew her legs up to her chest and rested her head on her knees. Eyes closed, she hadn't noticed the figure walk up to her until the voice spoke:_

"_Hi, hi, hi Linnie-Lin."_

_There dressed in his usual white outfit and bowler hat stood Alex. The smirk she had grown to love was across his face; blue eyes staring down into hers. Linda smiled when he sat beside her, kissed her cheek, and brought her legs over his lap. His hand stayed on her thigh while the other played with the strap of her heel. _

"_And what's got my little pet so razdraz?" He asked, brushing hair from her face. _

"_Nothing. Just thinking is all…"_

"_And what is that?"_

"_Things." _

_He was silent for a moment. Alex never became silent this way, unless he was contemplating something dastardly in his mind. Then, his voice came much softer than normal. He spoke plainly. _

"_Am I one of those things?" He gave me a sideways glance. _

"_Perhaps…" She did not want to admit he was…sometimes the only thing. "Why do you care?"_

"_Because…Because I think of you…All the time…"_

_Linda was a bit taken aback at this. Alex Delarge…The most evil boy she had ever met…telling her he thought about her all the time. Alex Delarge…showing some fault in his usually confident voice…talking in a normal language he rarely spoke…It kind of scared her a bit. _

"_Wha-…You do? When? When you're home alone?" She smirked with a giggle. _

"_Not just then..." He paused. "When I'm out with the boys and you're not next to me…I hate to admit it but…you're the reason I have so much damn flaws now…"_

"_What do you mean?" She scooted closer, her thighs on his lap now instead. _

"_I used to have my head on straight. I used to be able to do things with you and not care if I hurt you or not. Now…I can't…I care…And I hate it…"_

"_You hate that I make you feel like a normal human being with feelings?" She tried to hold back her slight laugh. _

"_Yes…It's you that makes me think of being straight and narrow…getting a job…getting married and having a family...growing old with you and…being with you forever…"_

"_Alex…Are you saying you love me?"_

_He stayed silent. She smiled. "I love you too, Alex."_

_Alex never looked at her. His face was emotionless as he stared out into the water. Her lips planted a kiss on his jaw line then on his cheek; with a turn of his head, his lips. Linda then stared at him, his profile perfect in the sun. _

Once her fingers stopped, she opened her eyes. The smile that had played across her face had faded when she realized where she was. Her head turned back to the rest of the room.

"That was absolutely wonderful, sweetums," Daddy said while they clapped.

"I knew all those practices would pay off," Mummy commented.

"I said she was excellent," Gran told Mr. Alexander. "She'd be perfect for your article."

"Indeed," He agreed.

"Article?" Linda questioned, swinging her legs over the chair.

"Yes," Mr. Alexander answered. "I'm writing an article for the newspaper about young musicians. I believe there are still some good children in the world who do not lash out in random violence. They are poised, generous and modest. I would like to write about you, Linda. You are the perfect example of proper youth. Instead of taking your aggressions out on others in the streets, you stay in and focus on your incredible talent. I admire that in a young person," He wheeled himself over to her, "What do you say?"

Linda was at a loss for what she _would_ say. Being so suddenly asked to be the subject of an article written by the man Alex had so viciously attacked months ago made her momentarily speechless. She turned to her parents as though they would answer for her, but they only nodded their encouragement. Her eyes turned back into Mr. Alexander's kind, wrinkled face. There had been no indication that Linda had even been there that night. She hadn't stepped even one foot into the house. She was not even sure if this is the owner of that cottage. She sighed a little before finally speaking:

"That sounds wonderful, Mr. Alexander. I've never had my name in the papers before."

"Fantastic," He clasped his hands together, "Absolutely fantastic! Now, perhaps we could schedule a meeting?"

Mummy, Daddy and Gran all began talking to Mr. Alexander, asking him specifics and when she should come for the interview. Linda-on the other hand-felt butterflies filling her stomach while she sat there on the piano bench; she excused herself from the room to walk back into her own. Running a hand through those long, silky strands, she thought of Alex straight away. She imagined him standing against the wall, glaring at Julian once or twice, but focusing his attention on her. She recalled that wonderful moment by the marina. She sat on her bed and replayed it all in her head. The memory had been so comforting; she continued to think.

Mr. Alexander and Julian left after dessert. Their interview was scheduled for next weekend when Linda would be home. This did not fully concern Linda. What concerned her most was what would happen if Mr. Alexander were ever to find out that she had been there that night. There would be no actual proof. If she had been spotted, the man must have had super vision because the place had been awfully dark. Besides, he had been inside during the attack. He had not come crawling out of the front door or anything. Linda felt a bit safer now.

Once the dishes were clean, the leftovers put away and Moyra in bed, Linda walked back into her bedroom. However, she did not sleep. She thought. Thinking seemed to be all she did these days. Hopefully, one day, she would get over this whole thing. Maybe she will manage to move on. By the looks of life now, that appeared to be an impossible feat.


End file.
